Skyrim: The Thief
by Rougeification
Summary: A noble Imperial boy, raised in Cyrodiil, Tenebraeus learned the way of magic from his mother, and the ways of war from his father, a General. But when he travelled to Skyrim and witnessed the death of his father, he had no choice but to run and hide, but when he finds a girl, calling herself the daughter of Stormcloak... his father's killer, what will he do? POV Collab w/ Jen12040
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Age: 9

I groaned as I keeled over, breathing hard. Sweat dripped off of my nose, and down between my shoulder blades. I looked up to see the larger boy grinning.

"Not a fighter huh?" He grinned. I looked up at the looming figure that held the large wooden sword. I pushed myself up off of the ground and launched another blow at the boy, who easily leant out of the way. My momentum carried me along, where I tripped over my feet and crashed into the floor, my body rolling across the stone slabs.

"Are you even trying?" He taunted me once more. I growled and shoved myself up, swinging the wooden sword at him ferociously. He brought up his practice sword and blocked each blow in a swift motion. He eventually snapped his blade around my arm and launched the hilt into my stomach. I groaned, grabbing my stomach and wheezing for air. I knelt down onto the floor, coughing into the slabs.

"Children." He scoffed. "No strength whatsoever."

I snarled at him and launched again, this time trying to mirror his defensive techniques, blocking each offensive blow he launched. Eventually, he shoved me backwards, forcing me to roll backwards and land on my stomach, the practice blade still firmly in my hand. The boy laughed and began to twirl around his practice sword while walking back to a few other boys, who all matched his fine attire and boots. I pushed myself up, looking at my torn trousers, blood escaping the grazes on my knees. My lips began to tremble at the stinging pain. I brought my knees up, putting my head into them and sobbing quietly.

"Tenebraeus?" The sound of my mother's voice made me quickly wipe away the tears with the back of my hands. "Are you crying?" She asked, crouching down and placing an arm around me.

"No!" I snapped quickly, facing away so she wouldn't see my red eyes.

"Let me see." She said, gently turning my face back to see her. She sighed, seeing my red and swollen face. "Titus always does play rough..." She sighed, catching sight of my bloodied knee, and beginning to wipe it clean with her handkerchief.

"Why does he always pick on me?"

"Because he's older than you." She explained to me. "The strong can choose to prey off the weak. The rich will choose to feed off the poor. It's the way of the world." I paused to think about this.

"Should I feel bad about it?"

"About what?"

"Being better than them?"

"We're not better than them Tenebraeus." She explained. "All the difference is just money. But, by being here, we can help change things, we can help people." This made me feel better.

"We can?" She bit her lip.

"Promise not to tell anyone Teneraeus - this is a big secret." I nodded eagerly. I loved secrets, especially ones from my mother. "You father is trying to convince the Emperor to allow the worship of Talos." She smiled. I didn't really understand what she meant, but her smile told me it could only mean something good. "He could stop a war. Your father is a hero." I smiled. My father - the hero. I knew he was often sen as a war hero - the greatest swordsman in Cyrodiil, but my mother saw him in a different way - a man of freedom. He was her hero.

I smiled.

"Can you show me another one?" I asked quietly with a smile, earning my mother a concerned look. "Please? I promise to be careful." I promised. She mulled it over.

"Okay - but promise not to try it until I say." She said. I nodded eagerly, awaiting her actions. She outstretched a closed palm, and slowly opened it, a small burning flame planted firmly above her palm, burning brightly. I beamed at the sight - I loved my mother performing these tricks. She had always said I had her magic, since Titus had inherited our father's strength - not to say I wouldn't become stronger, just not possess the strength of a dragon like him. She closed her hand, the flame extinguishing a second before her hand was fully closed. I looked at her, amazed. "Come, let's see your father. Tell him about what Titus has done this time." I gulped, and followed my mother to my father's quarters.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" My father asked sternly. He held a dominating presence, partly because he was wearing his general's armour. Titus and I stood with our heads hung low. "Titus?" He asked. Titus said nothing. "Tenebraeus?" He turned to me. His overbearing presence forced me to look down at the floor still. "You're both going to be men soon." He took a pause, looking between us both with disapproval. "Fighting. In public!" He shook his head. "I expected this of you Tenebraeus, you're only young... but you Titus?" Titus' gaze was fixed on the floor. "Now, go outside while I talk to your brother." He said with a deep breath, Titus turning around on the spot and exiting the room.

As soon as Titus had exited the room, my father began to relax, sitting in his chair, his features softening. He took a deep sigh and touched the bridge of his nose.

"Tenebraeus, you must stop fighting with your brother." He said to me sympathetically. "Brothers are not meant to fight."

"But he makes fun of me." I said lowly, my gazed still directed at the floor.

"A soldier's greatest strength is his ability to endure." He reminded me - Titus and I had grown up with my father's code - one that, in his opinion, applied to everyone in the Empire: nobles to soldiers and royals to beggars.

"But I can't endure." I finally outburst. "I'm not a soldier..." I said, upset by the fact I would earn a disapproving look from him now.

"Tenebraeus, not everyone is meant to be a soldier." He said, stepping out of his chair and kneeling down in front of me, hand on my shoulder. "The world needs diplomats as well, perhaps even more so than soldiers."

"But you're a soldier." I said, only to have him respond by nodding slowly.

"Now, what was this fighting about?" he asked. I dropped my head down again. "Tenebraeus?" I bit my lip, deciding how to tell him.

"He called me weak..." I said quietly. My father sighed. "It was mean!" I said quickly, trying to justify myself.

"Is that it?" I grabbed my elbow, embarrassed.

"He hit me with the sword." I mumbled. My father sighed again - disappointed. "He said he'd keep on doing it unless I stopped him!" I tried to explain, but my father held up a hand, silencing me, as he shook his head at the floor.

"He knows he's stronger than you..." He muttered. He looked back up at me. "You can go no Tenebraeus." I quickly turned around and hurried myself out of the large room, filled with desks and maps, as well as swords and a mannequin of armour.

As I left the room, I saw Titus sitting on the bench, his gaze nailed to the floor. I kept my eyes fixed in front of me as I left the presence of the two dominating figures.

I came into a large hallway, and followed the trail of stone flooring into my room, where I closed the door firmly, and walked over to my desk, facing the wall by the door and raising a hand. I closed my eyes and focused on what my mother had taught me. I focused on the energy spattering within my arms. I outstretched a hand and a small speck of flames spluttered out, evaporating into air with a flash of smoke. I groaned, frustrated by my continual failure with my attempts of magic. I closed my eyes, and tried again, this time I used my frustration to try and motivate myself into making a sustaining flame. It didn't work, and so I tried again, my frustration making me more and more determined into sustaining a fire in my palm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Another quick upload - I know. Originally, this was part of the first chapter, but I figured it deserved it's own for character development stuff. Anyway, enjoy it, don't forget to R&R**

_**Reviews...**_

_**PartySpaz09 - **__Thank you for your review! And honestly, I can say a little bit of both... or maybe neither? It's complicated - he's not restricted to just one class... well, you will see in the coming chapters. As to his father's death - let's not give it all away just yet... enjoy this lengthy chapter!_

Age: 12

I stood in the long courtyard, wearing my leather doublet over my most expensive white shirt. I cavalierly opened my palm, a ball of fire started to hover in the palm of my hand. I quickly clenched my fist tightly, extinguishing the flame in a flash of smoke, then repeating the process again. After a while, I leant against hte fountain, cupping my hand in water and splashing some on my face.

Where the devil is Caprius?" I muttered to Ignus, who sat by the fountain, reading a book. He paid no attention to me, so I tapped him lightly on the arm, gaining his attention.

"What?"

"Where the devil has Caprius got to?" I asked, Ignus shrugging in response. "I talked to his father - he didn't come home last night."

"Ah, poor Caprius," I murmured aloud, "he's only a gentle soul. I don't think he's used to such a hot sun." I grinned, earning a smirk from Ignus. "Do you think he's dead?" I mused. Ignus looked at me, amused by the question, yet slightly annoyed at the idea. "Just asking." I justified myself. Ignus leant in quietly.

"His father said that Titus has been trying to duel him." I sighed dramatically - remembering my many fights with Titus as a child - where he would always overpower me and hit me with the wooden swords. Of course, fights had to be kept in check now we were both carrying real swords, but no one really fought anymore - not to the death anyway. I suppose it was just a way to pass the time - it was just messing about at this age. Although, I knew that messing about wasn't enough for Titus - he always had to win.

"Alas," I said frowning, "then Caprius is already dead." I started walking forwards from the fountain.

"How so?" Asked Ignus, jogging after me with a grin.

"Well, do you know who he's fighting?" I asked, mocking awe at Titus' person.

"Who's that?" Asked Ignus, amused by my mocking - as were some of the other boys that I knew, who had walked up to us to see what I was talking about now.

"Only Titus," I announced to the rest of the boys, mocking still, "the lord of the sword! Made by the blade! King of Cyrodiil!" I swept into a low bow, imagining Titus was in front of me, and made the rest of the boys around me laugh. I grinned at my humour. "He who has mastered the way of the sword, and has tamed the barbaric horde!" They began to laugh more at my poetry about Titus. It is worth noting that Titus had never been in a war before, and even though he had befriended many of the Imperial Legion, and played the part of a veteran warrior, I knew, as a brother, that he had not been in anything more than duels and fistfights inside the Imperial city.

Ignus grabbed my elbow, forcing me back and informing me of the entrance at the other side of the courtyard. It was Titus and some of his soldier friends. Titus was twenty years old now, and thought he was therefore more important than everyone else. He wore a simple red shirt with a long brown, suede overcoat that swept at his ankles. He made his way over to us with his entourage of four Imperial soldiers around his age and came up to us. By this time, I had seated myself on one of the benches, my back to Titus and his friends. I looked up at Ignus, who seated himself next to me.

"This is going to turn into a fight Tenebraeus." He said urgently. I simply took his book and began flicking through it. "I swear to the Divines, there will be a price for this." He hissed at me, looking at the approaching 'soldiers'. He shuddered at the memory of my scolding father from the last time he was involved with a fight.

"I swear to the dogs," I said, tossing his book back at him, "I don't care." I heard the footsteps stop behind me, and Titus clear his throat.

"Gentlemen." he said, the arrogance in his voice was evident. "May I have a word with one of you?" The rest of my friends looked at me. I grinned and turned around to Titus, who stood with a hand on his hilt. I put on a face of mock surprise when I saw him.

"Only a word Titus?" I asked, gasping. "I don't think conversations can be born from just one word Titus." I frowned. "Has our tutor not taught you that yet?" Titus ground his teeth as my friends snickered.

"You will show me more respect boy." He growled. I rolled my eyes, and turned back to my friends. Titus did not appreciate my lack of interest and began to advance on me, only to stop suddenly. "Don't worry little brother." He said, a grin playing on his mouth. "Here's my man." I turned around to see Caprius entering the courtyard, venturing into the dispute between Titus and I. "Caprius!" Titus shouted in anger. He marched over and drew a fist, knocking Caprius back a few steps. "Did you steal my helmet?" He asked, knowing the answer. Caprius shook his head.

"No, no, Titus, I swear by the eight!" Titus cut him off with a kick to the face, bringing his foot back to reveal a bloodied nose. Titus proceeded to remove his sword belt and handed it to one of the soldiers, before launching a foot into Caprius' chest. I flinched at the cracking sounds bouncing across the stone slabs and to my ears.

"Why isn't he fighting back?" Ignus muttered. I knew the answer - if Caprius was too afraid to fight back - he had no chance of defending himself. It just seemed so unjust - so wrong. The strong were preying on the weak - it made me furious. I doubted Titus even owned a helmet - he was undoubtedly just looking for a fight. But Caprius was a year younger than me - four years younger than Titus, who was now a looming figure over him. Titus began to furiously beat Caprius more.

I unstrapped my sword belt and handed it to Ignus before marching towards Titus, who only saw me for a moment before I launched a fist into his face, sending him back onto the floor. Aside from the stinging pain in my knuckles, I was feeling quite empowered from the first time I had grounded my older brother. I helped Caprius to his feet before Ignus to look after, before turning back to Titus.

I was met to a punch in my face, which made me stumble back, grabbing my jaw. I turned back to face Titus, who's face was now contorted in rage. He threw another punch at my face, which I quickly ducked under, launching a fist into his stomach. He stumbled back a step, but quickly resumed his posture. He then threw a third fist at my head, but as I dodged again, I was met with his other hand, directly in my right eye. I fell backwards, temporarily blinded by the blow. I started to blink frantically, grabbing my eye and trying to see. Titus took this opportunity to throw another punch into my rib, causing me to keel over for a time. My sight returned and I stood back up, waiting for Titus to make the first move. He threw another strong punch towards me, but I was a lot quicker then Titus, and grabbed his wrist, pulling the punch down past me stomach and launching a strong knee into his stomach. He groaned in pain, but managed to wrench his fist back from my grasp and launched it back into my chest. He was physically, more dominant than I, and so I stumbled a few steps before we both began to launch ourselves at each other again. However, we never met, as several guards of the Imperial Legion ad begun to restrain us. I was angered by the sudden feeling of being powerless, and tried to wrench my arms back to Titus, who was enraged like a bear, and was attacking the guards around him, who were now being assisted by Titus' entourage. I subsided relatively quickly, and realized I would be hearing about this from my father. Again.

I stood in the courtyard behind our house, panting from the training. My forearms were red from the grapples, but I was relatively unscathed. Apart from my earlier scrap with Titus.

"Good, good! You are learning fast!" My instructor grinned. "Try to control your breathing more - a chokehold can only do so much when you have a good chest of air." I nodded, taking in his advice, then prepared myself again for the grapple. I threw a fist at his head, but he grabbed the wrist, twisting it around, and as he went to grab my neck, I took a deep breath, grabbing his neck in return. Eventually, his grip loosened, allowing me to escape from the hold. "Excellent!" He coughed, gasping for air.

"General." We both turned around to see my father by the door, approaching us. My instructor nodded, and left. I sighed, and proceeded to remove my leather cuirass, changing into my white shirt. "I never thought you would've excelled at fighting, I admit," my father said, approaching me, "but once again, you have proved me wrong." He smiled. I returned the smile, but I was smiling more to myself than at him, and I began to tie the leather bracers on my wrists. "So, I heard you and Titus had another... disagreement." He informed me.

"Here it comes." I murmured.

"I told you why we don't fight." He said sternly.

"I know, code of conduct, but come on - do you really think Titus adheres to that code?"

"It doesn't give you an excuse to reject it." He raised an eyebrow. He had a point. I shook my head, and reached for my doublet, fastening the clasps. "How is your training coming along?"

"The general says he thinks I know as much as he can teach me without sending me into a war." My father chuckled.

"General Tullius..." He mused, looking after my instructor "he's a talented man. I daresay he's the one to quell the rebellion." He smiled at me.

"What rebellion?"

"Some Nords in Skyrim. They object the treaty with the Thalmor." He said.

"Don't you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I am... unhappy with certain compromises we had to make with the Thalmor." He stated. I was satisfied with this answer. I picked up a goblet of wine on the stone table beside me and drank some before turning back to my father.

"So, as you were saying?" He thought for a moment.

"Ah, yes, the rebellion. A Jarl decided to lead a rebellion against the Empire's presence in Skyrim, as they were devoted to Talos."

"Jarl?" I asked, confused by the word.

"It's the Nordic equivalent of a Count." He explained. I nodded, showing my understanding. "As I was saying, Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, killed the High King of Skyrim, sparking the Stormcloak rebellion." I nodded, fixing my doublet so the top was open, as it was too hot to have it fastened completely, as my father did.

"Skyrim?" I asked.

"What about it?"

"Isn't that where you met..." I couldn't finish the question, he knew who I meant.

"Yes, that's where we met. In a small city in the south-east." He spent a moment thinking about it. "I doubt I can remember the right name of it. She stopped me arresting her friend, who happened to have stolen my coin purse." He said, a tone of amusement in his voice. "There wasn't much coin in the purse, but it was all about maintaining order you see." I nodded. "Anyway, she made the thief give back the purse." He smiled at the memory.

"I wish I could see it." I said and I drank some more of the wine, slightly disheartened.

"See what?"

"The rest of Tamriel."

"You live in the very capital." He said, astounded by my answer.

"Yes, but that's not enough." I said, slightly depressed. "Besides, I really want to see where... where she grew up." I shrugged. My father thought for a moment.

"You've been to High Rock." He reminded me.

"Briefly." I confirmed. "Besides, she always talked of the mystical nation of Skyrim, where the snow-topped mountains and rolling fields went on for miles, teeming with wildlife. It just sounds... well, not like here." My father frowned.

"You don't like it here?"

"I like it here fine." I shrugged. "I just... it's all the same. There's nothing surprising left for me here. I mean, I love living here, and I don't think I could ever leave, but... I just need time to see somewhere else." I shrugged, and I finished the goblet of wine, while lifting a hand to cause the jug of wine to lift and pour more into the goblet, albeit messily, with wine pouring onto the stone table as well.

"That's cheating." My father said.

"A soldier uses everything within his power to his advantage." I quoted to him, and he chuckled at the fact I had paid attention to his code of conduct.

"How would you feel accompanying General Tullius and I to Skyrim?" He asked me.

"To kill rebels?" I asked, a little wary.

"I do not want to kill rebels." He shook his head. "No, far be it from me to condemn men who are willing to fight for what they believe. I simply want to... reason with them. Because..." He waited for me to finish the sentence. I rolled my eyes.

"A soldier knows when the taking of life is necessary?" I asked, unsure.

"And that is when?"

"More lives are at risk." I nodded. I understood his philosophy - the greater good dictated the actions. I didn't necessarily agree with it thouhg. But that was because I didn't agree in the taking of lives. I knew that I would get angry, especially so around Titus, but I don't know whether I could actually harm him. He was still my brother after all. "Alright. But I don't want to get dragged into any politics of the place."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

One Month Later

Rain. Torrential rain. It had been three days since we started travelling from Cyrodiil to Skyrim, and now we had arrived, rain had been haunting us wherever we travelled. From the outlying regions, to the green plains outside a city called Whiterun.

I was in the carriage, being escorted by the company of soldiers along with General Tullius and my father. They were outside, on horseback.

I peered out of the frame of the carriage, at the rolling plains, smiling to myself. It was so different to Cyrodiil - there was wildlife everywhere! I even saw giants in the distance! This land was amazing! I was fascinated by it. The humungous rock formations and the towering mountains made me feel a decade younger - this land was perfect. The mountains crept up into the clouds, which masked them to all eyes below.

This calm did not last for long.

Within a second of the tranquility of the plains and the streams, the journey had changed - flaming arrows flew into the frame and landed into the wooden bench I was sitting on. I ducked down, more arrows flooding into the carriage. Outside I could hear savage battle cries, and the sound of clanging steel. I peeked through the frame to see a small army of men running at full speed towards our escort. They continued on running like wild boar, until a small attachment of them slammed into our carriage, heaving it over onto its side. I fell onto the frame, groaning. The door opened, and I saw a man standing in the light, his silhouette casting a shadow across the entire carriage, a hatchet gleaming in the light. I threw a hand out in a feeble attempt of defence, only to have the man fall backwards, engulfed in the flames that escaped my hands. I pulled my hands back in shock as the soldier collapsed off of the carriage.

I hoisted myself up out of the carriage, and took in the situation: a number of soldiers in light blue cloth and chain mail were overpowering the escort of guards. I jumped up and out of the carriage, my father running over to me.

"Tenebraeus! Get on the horse!" He hoisted me up onto a bright white horse. "Ride! Get out of here! Go!" I opened my mouth to respond to him - to ask what was happening - to ask him what was going to happen: to me, to him, everything. But he hit the horse, causing it to start racing off down the cobbled road. I grabbed onto the reigns for dear life, and as I looked back, I saw him continue to fight the amassing hordes around him, his fighting skills waning as the hordes began to overwhelm him.

I continued on the horse, never looking back. I was too scared to. I clutched onto the reigns so I wouldn't fall off at the great speed. I couldn't stop running. I could never stop running.

And I didn't.

Three Weeks Later

Riften was a grotty place. A dirty, thug-infested sewer-like city, with grave yards greeting visitors by the gates, and canals founding the city. All manners of inconspicuous and unlikely characters populated the city - sparsely around the railings of the wooden decking that was stacked on top of the canals, with the stone houses crammed on top of one another, crowded with families. The more unfortunate people had resorted to living in the marketplace by the courtyard, or on the lower levels, by the canals. I was sleeping in the warehouse out by the docks, and had been doing so for the past few days. I was only small, and so could hide in small places - places where what few guards that manned the warehouse already didn't know about.

I sat beside a cart of meat, observing the crowds moving around the marketplace, a flurry of rags and furs as they bartered and traded goods. There was a mixture of merchants and mercenaries, who I had percieved to be little better than thugs.

"Are you thieving gutter-rat?" I looked up at the dark elf's scowl, and tried to stutter out my innocence. She simply hoisted my up by the ear, and threw me forwards. "Lurk around here again, and I'll put you in the orphanage." I had heard about the orphanage - it was the place no child wanted to be: a place of misery and cruelty until you were finally old enough to leave. I scampered away from the elf. "Get back to the Ratway!" She hissed at me, before starting to announce her wares of food to the crowds.

I stood up steadily and began to walk past the series of beggars, who had more coin than I did. I was starving - wearing the shirt and doublet I had arrived in three weeks ago. I felt weary. I seemed to have lost all hope - I had no chance of travelling back to Cyrodiil. I was stranded here - just waiting to die.

"Running a little light in the pockets, lad?"

I turned around to see a man - dressed in the fine noble clothes of what appeared to be a merchant. His knotted hair I looked around for who he was talking to, but his eyes stayed firmly placed on me.

"I'm...I'm sorry, what?" I managed to stutter out at the adult.

"Your pockets: they're a little low on coin. I can tell." I gulped at this man. Something seemed shady about him.

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the figure, trying to keep my distance.

"It's all about sizing up your mark lad. The way they walk, what they wear, it's a dead giveaway."

"My wealth is none of your business." I managed to stammer out. He chuckled at me - at first I thought it was because of my stammering, but his response informed me it was my choice of words.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong lad." He grinned "Wealth _is_ my business." I examined his knowing face suspiciously. "Maybe you'd like a taste?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I have a bit of an...errand to perform, but I need a pair of extra hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid."

"What do I have to do?"

"Simple, I'm going to cause a distraction, and you're going to steal Modesi's silver ring from the strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, you're going to place it in in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing." He said, pointing from the lizard-like _person_ (?) to the dark elf. I shifted uneasily - my father had never approved of stealing.

"Why place it on Brand-Shei?"

"There's someone that wants to see him put out of business permanently. That's all you need to know." The figure shrugged. "Ready?"

"Wait!" I said urgently. "How am I supposed to do all of this?"

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" He rolled his eyes. He handed me two small metal tools. "Lockpick the stand and strongbox."

"How should I know how to lockpick?"

"If it's meant to be, it'll come to you." He said, pushing my along gently.

"Wait!" I called again, turning back to him. "Why are you doing this to Brand-Shei?"

"We've been contracted to make sure Brand-Shei remembers not to meddle in affairs that aren't his own. Now, since we're not the dark brotherhood, we're not going to kill him, we're just going to make sure he sits in the prisons for a few days." He said, almost innocently. "You ready lad?" I bit my lip, looking back over to the cart of food. If I did this, I would have money - I could have food. I could survive. I decided I would do this - I had to do this. Necessity beckoned. I nodded.

"Sure." He grinned, a sort of grin a friend would do - eager yet wise. A mixture of age and youth. He walked back to a large stand that I presumed to be his, and began calling all manners of the crowds, including the other store owners - Modesi and Brand-Shei. I sighed and set about to start my heist. At the mere age of twelve, necessity beckoned.

"Looks like I chose the right person for the job." The merchant grinned, watching the shouting elf being restrained by guards. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bulbous coin purse, tossing it to me. "Here you go - your payment, as promised." He grinned once more, letting out a relief of breath. "You know, the way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch."

"The way things have been going?" I asked, perplexed. He let out a grunt of frustration.

"My organization's been having a run of luck," his grin shifted slightly, "but I suppose that's just how it goes." I started to feel sympathy for the man - I mean, he was a shady type, and had just essentially imprisoned a man, but so had I - maybe this man was doing it because he didn't have a choice either? He was as innocent in the matter as I was. "Best of all, there's more where that came from..." He smiled "if you think you can handle it." I instantly knew what he meant - more stealing? Becoming a thief?

Immediately, I felt repulsion to the idea - I was a noble! Soon to be a member of the gentry! But then I remembered that my father would likely be dead. I had no way of returning home - I doubted the Imperials would recognize me out here. Maybe thieving was the only way I could survive? But did that mean I would give up everything I was?

"I don't know..." I said eventually.

"Look, I'll make it simple for you. You can make some coin with us, or stay up here and end up in the orphanage. Your choice." I bit my lip, glancing around. It seemed like I was being thrown a lifeline in this whirlwind of people and starvation. "Come on lad, we'll feed you, give you a bed, whatever you need."

"But..." I tried to think of any reason not to listen to this mans very convincing promises. "But that doesn't mean anything if I get caught."

"I doubt you will get caught - you're a natural lad." I felt a strange pang of pride at the words. Like when my father was pleased with me. I had almost forgot what that felt like. "Besides, I'll show you the ropes." He winked. I couldn't think of a reason not to accept his deal. I mean, I could think of some obvious reasons, but none that outweighed my situation of starvation and inevitable death on the streets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just realized - I haven't said I don't own any of the Elder Scrolls stuff - otherwise I wouldn't be writing a fanfic... anyway, I own Tenebraeus.**

**Now - this is where I need you guys to help do your part: I'm unsure of whether to skip ahead to Tenebraeus being older, or whether to focus more on him being twelve. Say what you think in the reviews please, as it helps structure the story. I'm happy to add in these chapters of him when he's twelve, but I don't want to do it if it'd be boring for you guys - plus you'd just be spammed with notifications. So, remember to do that when you get a moment.**

**Also, I just wanted to make clear, Tenebraeus is NOT the Dragonborn. I realized I haven't said that yet - he is definitely not and will not have any of the Shouts or anything like that in the story. Sorry if some of you thought that. Although, I will give you a clue to who the Dragonborn is - he appears in Chapter two... the first one to get it right gets brownie points!**

_**Reviews...**_

_**Guest - **__Haha, thank you! Yeah, I'm sorry for leaving that in - I was writing it late in the morning and clearly didn't proof-read it enough. Hope you enjoy another one!_

_**PantherHardraag**__**- **__Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I just realized how similar our stories are - great job by the way - expect a follow from me soon... Thanks for reviewing - I appreciate a great writer saying that :)_

Chapter Four

The Ragged Flaggon was a pub in the Ratway - what I soon discovered to be the sewers of Riften. Many of the thugs had taken to the Ratway, fighting and stealing from each other to maintain their survival, but my navigator led me through the maze of tunnels, showing me the way, as well as small tips on how not to be seen - pointing out various pressure plates that caused rams to launch into you at full speed or blades to jut out of walls and impale you. I began to warm up to him - especially since he had saved me not only from death on the streets, but also to the various traps.

The Ragged Flaggon matched it's area - it was obvious that the large, circular chamber was part of the sewers. Instantly, I shuddered as I saw the rats scamper past my feet. Rats? Really? Even on the streets, I had never come across rats! The sewer-pub was lit dimly, small lights hanging above the tables and chairs on the other side of the chamber, but the light did little better than allowing one to see.

I was standing cautiously by the crates, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation between the three men.

"Give it a rest Brynjolf - those days are over."

"I'm telling you, this one is different."

"We've all heard that one before Bryn - Quit kidding yourself."

"It's time to face the truth old friend. You, Vex, Mercer. You're all part of a dying breed." A third man agreed.

"Dying breed eh? What do you call that then?" The closest thing to a friend I had turned around, beaming. I couldn't resist smiling back - it was like he was telling me it was alright - I was going to be alright. The two other men examined me - one was no doubt a giant - looming over me with rippling muscles showing through his leather armour, which fit him snugly. The other was fairly gangly, standing there gawking at me as if I was something mythical. "What do you think Lad?" asked.

"It's a bit of a mess..." I murmured. A couple of the women laughed with Brynjolf.

"If you were expecting a palace, then maybe you're not cut out for this line of work. Our methods involve secrecy and distraction. Now, if you're done bellyaching like a child, Mercer wants to see you."

"Mercer?"

"The boss." I gulped. He even sounded intimidating. "Don't be scared lad - no harm will come to you. We need people like you in our outfit. And I think you'll do more than fit in around here."

"Before we go, I have to ask..."

"What's on your mind?"

"Word is your outfit isn't doing so well. Is it true?"

"We run into a rough patch lately but it's nothing to be worried about. Tell you what, make us some coin, and I'll worry about everything else eh?" He gave me a light slap on the arm and gestured for me to follow him.

He led me through me through the long circular tunnel, another heavy door at the end. However, we stopped before we reached the door, at a cupboard. I furrowed my brow, scrunching up my face in confusion. He grinned, and put a key into the cupboard, opening it up, but then he hit a hand into the heavy back of the cupboard, causing it to stir, dust falling from it's sides, and opened out to reveal a small passage, leading towards another door. I dropped my mouth in awe. He shook his head, and then led me through the storage cupboard to the other door.

Behind it was the cistern: four stone paths met at an intersection in the middle, like bridges over the clear water below, like a small, fairly shallow, pond. It was a large circular chamber, much like the one we entered into for the pub. At every yard of the wall, there was a small, narrow bed. Of course, it was nothing compared to the one I grew up sleeping in, but given three weeks of sleeping in the crooks of rocks, covering up my mouth for fear of spiders climbing in - it was paradise - there weren't even any rats in here, much to my pleasure.

I followed him up path to the intersection, where the moonlight shone through, dropping onto a figure, standing at the centre. He was clad in a similar attire to the rest of the bodies moving about - dark leather brackets, as well as some stitched belts across his torso, hosting some small buckled bags, only his attire was darker than most - so as to assert his dominance I supposed. As we got closer, I began to examine his features more closely - he had cold, unreserving eyes, matched by his discoloured light hair, a thick presence of stubble around his mouth. The cold, piercing moonlight only heightening my immediate fear of the man. This was undoubtedly Mercer.

"Mercer, this is the one I have been telling you about... our new recruit." He looked at me, smiling proudly.

"This better not be another waste of time for the Guilds resources Brynjolf." Mercer's voice was rough, and harsh, without a sense of kindness and a tone of malice to it - much like his face. He turned to me, making my head go completely blank. "Before we continue, I want to make one thing clear: If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share - no debates, no discussions. You do what we say, when we say. Do I make myself clear?" I searched for words - utterly terrified.

"I'm... I'm not sure-"

"If you're not sure, maybe you don't belong here. I'll ask again - are we clear?" I paused, looking to a curious Brynjolf as to my answer. His mischevious grin told me what to say.

"We're thieves. Aren't we meant to break rules?" Mercer did a double-take at me - thrown off by my answer. Immediately, he scowled, his distaste causing me to lose all of the bravery Brynjolf had just bestowed on me.

"I'll let that go because you're new here. Ask things out of turn again, and we have a problem. Now, are we clear?"

"Yes, I understand." I answered immediately.

"Good then I think it's time we put your expertise to use." Mercer grinned smugly. Brynjolf's face immediately transitioned to one of worry.

"Wait, you're not talking about Goldenglow are you? Even our little Vex couldn't get in!"

"You claimed that this 'recruit' possess aptitude for our line of work. If so, let him prove it." Brynjolf stayed quiet - it was obvious who was charge here - I had been to court, therefore I knew how to observe people's authority - there was no doubt about Mercer - he was in charge of everything. He turned to me, once again, making me unable to satisfy the urge to shrink away, only because I was frozen with fear. "Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our larger clients. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson." He didn't blink or move his eyes at all from mine, as he stared me down. He smiled smugly once more as I dropped my gaze to the floor. "Brynjolf will provide you with the details. That is, if he's not too busy being your wet nurse." He went to walk away.

"Mercer!" The other thief called him back. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Mercer scratched his head.

"Oh, yes." He turned back to me. "Since your friend Brynjolf has convinced me you're nothing but a benefit to us. You're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild."

I grinned to myself as I watched Mercer walk away, each ounce of my fear leaving with him. As I breathed many sighs of relief, I turned to the other thief, who was beaming proudly at me.

"Welcome to the family lad, I"m expecting you to make us a lot of coin - don't disappoint me." He winked. "Anything you want to know?"

"How do I get my money?"

"Simple do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We don't turn a profit by killing." I nodded. "Listen lad, I'm going to talk to Mercer for you okay? You're too young to do this job." Instantaneously, I felt unfairly judged - just because I was young and small, it didn't mean I was incapable! He may have been right, but it still didn't mean the assumption didn't hurt. "In the very least, I'll make sure someone takes you. Maybe Vex, or Rune - another Imperial." I opened my mouth to ask how he knew, but he began to answer why already. "Come on lad, I know an Imperial when I see one. Fine clothes like that, the hair, the face, the voice - it's obvious. Sizing up your mark remember?" I rubbed my elbow. "So, why are you in Skyrim?" He asked, leading me to the various beds. "Runaway?"

"Sort of."

"Well, who was your father?"

"A general. In the Imperial army."

"Fancy that... you'll give Thrynn a run for his money!"

"I'm not good at fighting..." I muttered.

"You better learn lad, being a thief means getting into a few scraps." He grinned. "So, why aren't you in some posh house in Cyrodiil?"

"I came here with my father... he wanted to make peace with the rebels." I explained. "We were attacked on our way here."

"You don't mean that armed escort that got ambush about a month ago?" I nodded. "You've been on your own three weeks?" I nodded again. "Blimey, you have got survival instincts."

"You don't know anything about what happened do you?"

"Only that mostly Imperials died there. I don't know if anyone made it out." I felt a pit in my stomach. My father was most likely dead. I was now an orphan. I guess I had known it for a long time, but I couldn't have given up on hope. But now he was gone - I didn't even have my brother now. Something told me he wouldn't feel anything at this loss - he seemed too distant, too in-the-moment to understand what we had just lost. What I had just lost. I had no reason to return to Cyrodiil now - everyone must've thought I was dead. But here, with people like the Guild helping me and recognizing my achievements - albeit the people being terrifying and the accomplishments being thievery - I could have a new life. One without the expectations and pressures of a court life. I smiled to myself at the aspect. "What did you say your name was lad?"

"Tenebraeus." I answered. "Tenebraeus Magnus." He smiled, and extended a hand for me to shake.

"Greetings Tenebraeus Magnus." He smiled. "I'm Bynjolf.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I've decided to write out the Goldenglow chapter - I didn't actually intend to before, but hey - life's full of nice little surprises isn't it? Anyway, this is a long chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it. Sorry for any typos I may have missed - I was writing this quite early - like 4 am early. So, enjoy Tenebraeus' first ever heist!**

Chapter Five

"Goldenglow estate is a bee farm." Brynjolf explained to me, as we sat at the table inside the cistern. Brynjolf drank from another tankard of mead before continuing. "They raise the wretched little things for honey. It's owned by some smart-mouth elf called Aringoth. You, me and Vex, we're going to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate's hives and clearing out the safe in the main house." I nodded, acknowledging this.

"What's the catch?" I asked carefully. Brynjolf grinned, and drank more mead.

"The catch is that we can't burn the whole place to the ground. That important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did." This seemed obvious to me.

"That makes sense." I nodded. "Aye, the last thing we want to be doing is crossing our our clients." He pulled himself up out of the chair. "Come, we'll go see Vex." He led me through the cistern and back into the Ragged Flagon.

"So, what about this Aringoth?" I asked cautiously.

"I told you, we don't turn a profit by killing. What's more is that Maven would prefer it if he stayed alive, but if he tries to stop us from getting the job done, we'll kill him." This sat uneasily with me. I couldn't kill a person. "Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to kill him. Vex will be accompanying you. I doubt she'd pass up another shot at the place." I nodded. Brynjolf led me through to the storage cabinet and towards the fearsome woman leaning against some crates. Her blonde hair was notted in a similar fashion to Brynjolf, but her tanned skin alerted me that she was from Cyrodiil - like me. As she saw us approaching, she clenched her jaw.

"I want to make two things perfectly clear." She informed me. "One: I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild's got, so if you think you're here to replace me, you're dead wrong." She said, her eyes emitting a pulsing on the second to last word. "And two: you follow my lead and do exactly what I say - no questions, no excuses."

I gulped. Brynjolf put a hand on my shoulder, grinning.

"The Guild has a lot riding on this lad. Don't make me look foolish by mucking it up. You watch yourself on that island. Those mercenaries don't take prisoners." He looked up at Vex. "And neither does she."

We stood on the dock opposite the Goldenglow estate, examining the place in the moonlight. I couldn't help but marvel at the Nordic manor - it was so different to Cyrodiil! No stones or marble, but oak panels, all along the side of it! It was three floors high - something I presumed to be symbolic of prosperity to the Nords.

"You ready lad?" I looked up to Brynjolf, who had stepped away from the other thief. I nodded. "Scared?" I nodded. I was very scared, in fact. What if they caught me? I saw the guards with fire burning brightly in the breezeless moonlight. "I remember my first job." He grinned, looking back at the estate. "It was at the College in Winterhold. I had to scale up the back of the cliff to get in. Not something I enjoyed that much... but once the adrenaline kicks in, you'll be fine. Soon, you'll come to love it." I nodded, gulping. I wasn't sure how I felt about that - loving theft. Alas, I had made my choice. I had to do this. "Vex?" Vex approached us, looking to Brynjolf. "Where did you say the entrance was?"

"Just across the bay." She pointed towards the docks on the island that the estate stood on, at a small wooden mound that protruded from the grass. "What's the plan?" She asked him.

"I'm going to burn down three of the hives from the outside. After I've set fire to them, all the guards are going to come outside and search for me. By the time they're outside, I need you to be in Aringoth's safe. You'll have about a minute or two to get out." The way Brynjolf spoke - it was with such accuracy and confidence! However, at the same time, he had a relaxed approach to everything - no worry whatsoever about getting caught, or worse, killed. I couldn't help but admire this man, who was willing to jump in the face of death without so much as battering an eyelid.

"And the boy?"

"He's going to stick with you Vex. I need you to take care of him."

"Just because I'm a girl, it doesn't mean I'm a wet nurse-"

"Do you need a wet nurse Tenebraeus?" Brynjolf looked at me directly, cutting off Vex. His boldness and authority made me hesitate before answering - the way he looked at me told me there was no right or wrong answer - just an honest one. I hesitated.

"No." I said, assured of myself. I didn't need a wet nurse - I could take care of myself - I had survived an ambush and survived for another three weeks. I didn't need a wet nurse.

"Happy Vex?" She scowled at him. "Just make sure he doesn't get a knife in the gut and I'll make sure no one asks you to breastfeed." She was bright red, shooting me a look of detest, making me shrink back. "And, for the love of Ysmir, don't scare the boy." He winked at me, which made me unable to hide a grin. Then, He began to walk back off into the night, supposedly to circle around to the front of the estate, leaving me alone with a fierce and fearsome Vex.

"I trust you know how to swim?" She asked curtly. I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak, I would only emit a strangled choke. "Keep up." She said, and with that she dove into the water, gracefully. I did the same, landing quietly in the water, only to immediately grab my arms underwater. It was unbelievably freezing. It definitely woke me up. I looked up to see the outline of Vex swimming into the darkness and so, for fear of being left behind, I began to swim as hard as I could underwater.

In no less than twenty seconds we had reached the wooden mound on the grass. Vex was already lifting the wooden covering, completely unfazed by the water. I, on the other hand, was gasping for air, and rubbing my arms as fast as I could. I could see Vex's distaste in her face, but she did not say anything - probably because she didn't want to be heard by the patrolling guards nearby. She pulled off the cover and gestured for me to get in, which I did. I dropped down into the sewers, and immediately stopped gasping for air. I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from breathing and from also voicing my distaste. Moments later, Vex dropped in beside me, pulling her hood up over her hair, as I did the same.

"What is it with you people and sewers?" I asked through cupped hands. She gave me a stern look.

"Shut. Up." She looked around in the sewer. "Mara, I'm as blind as a bat..." I immediately thought of something! My magic! I could make light! I hoped... I had never really mastered a lot of it, but I could sustain fire! I outstretched a closed palm and opened it, a ball of fire sat in the palm, radiating light into the darkness. I could make out Vex's impressed face. "You have your uses." She said, walking slightly ahead of me, as I needed her to lead me through the sewers.

Eventually, we found a small ladder, leading up to another wooden cover.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The cellar."

"But why's a ladder here?"

"I put it up the last time I was here." She answered. She climbed up first, and I followed, waiting for her as she quietly closed the trap door.

"Do you think they know we're here?" I asked, cautious of the silent home.

"Well, they would've smelt us by now..." She answered. I grinned at the answer, and followed a cautious Vex, who leant behind a doorframe, and peeked into the room carefully. She nodded to me. "All clear-" suddenly, we heard the thunderous footsteps of mercenaries run down the stares of the manner, and out of the doorframe beside us. She put a hand on my mouth and pushed me up against the wall, waiting for the men to exit - they all did. She waited another moment by the doorframe. A later mercenary ran out after them. Only then did she remove the hand from my mouth.

"Damn it, he's early." She muttered. She turned to me. "We need to move." And with that, we began to hurriedly sneak through the house, up to the third level, where she halted me. She leant around the corner, seeing one mercenary still present. She turned back to look at me. "There's always something." She muttered. She took out a small knife and spun around from the doorway, throwing it swiftly through the air and into the mercenary's jugular. She eleagantly swept along the floor before the man had hit the floor and grabbed his body, lowering him softly to the floor without a noise, retrieving her knife. I stood there, watching the blood drip from the man's throat. His eyes were still very much alive - focused on my feet. His angry face of war was still etched upon his face. I felt tainted watching this man lying there, dead on the floor. I looked back to Vex, who had taken out a pair of long meal instruments I recognized to be a lockpick. She spent a moment at the door, before there was a soft click, and she straightened up, opening the double doors and walking boldly into the room. I followed after her, rather sheepishly.

An Altmer man cowered behind a case of books. He turned around to us, fear sketched upon his face. He wore fine emerald robes, gold trimmings and furs over his shoulders, various gold chains hung around his neck. He whimpered by the wall as Vex approached.

"Worthless mercenaries." He shook his head, as if he hated himself for hiring them. "I didn't think Maven or Mercer would allow me to get away with this, but I had no choice." He explained desperately.

"I just want the key to your safe." Vex said, no hint of emotion evident in her voice.

"I can't!" He tried to desperately explain, exasperated. "I may as well cut my own throat."

"What makes you think I won't?" Vex snarled.

"I don't believe you!" He stammered. "That's not your way." Vex cocked her head to the side, examining the man.

"Fine, I'll just open it myself." She said, and turned to walk away.

"No! I won't let you take away everything I've worked so hard to build!" The man yelled, and he grabbed a knife and charged at her. She spun around, knife in hand, but he didn't reach her. Instead, he had burst into flames, screaming and yelling in pain, until he fell to the floor, a burnt corpse. Vex turned around to me, my hand still outstretched, a flame still evident. I took a small step backwards... I had killed a man. I had killed someone. I felt dirty. Tainted once more. I was no longer just a thief - now I was a murderer too.

"Thanks." Vex said. "You're quite handy." I nodded - her compliment of my murdering felt sour. "Come on." She led me by the hand down to the basement of the estate, and used the key to open the door to the safe room - coin purses stood in an open chest, and the safe was firmly locked next to it. I had questions in my mind - like why she didn't just pick the lock of the safe and the door, and avoid killing the men all together? Why was the chest already open? Was someone else here? If they were, how did they get in without the key? Why couldn't we have done the same?

I watched her pocket the coin purses into all of her pouches, and she gave me some to put in mine, before she opened the safe, taking out another coin purse and a small note. She opened it briefly, then put it in her pouch, and went to leave the saferoom.

I was about to follow her when I noticed something - a glimmer coming from the safe. I crept towards it and opened it, find a small gold model of a bee. All of my temporary horror was diminished by this gleaming object. The candlelight gave this golden gleaming bee a strange essence - something that made me want it. I didn't care for the gold coins Vex had gifted to me - I just wanted this object. I moved forwards to it and lifted it up of the metal shelf, examining it. I felt a small tremble of excitement as I held it. I knew about what was worth money and what wasn't - this wasn't worth an extravagant amount of money. But... he had put it in a safe. This meant something to the dead man upstairs - someone who had died for a chance of it not being taken. That sentimental value... it made this priceless. I grinned to myself, as I realized I could have it - I held it, it was mine now. This power that larceny gave me... I liked it.

"What are you doing? They'll be back any minute now!" Vex hissed as she came back into the saferoom, and took my hand leading me out of the basement, up the stairs and down another flight back into the cellar we came from.

Brynjolf met us back at the cistern in the Ratway, and had left immediately with Vex to talk to Mercer about the robbery. Half an hour later, I was I sat on the intersection of the pathways, my feet dangling above the water below.

"You okay?" I looked up at the figure. Brynjolf was standing there. I nodded. "You can tell me if you want." I shrugged in response, looking back down at the water below - the reflection of a murderer. "Is it about Aringoth?" I nodded. He sat down beside me, placing a bottle of mead beside himself.

"I killed him." My voice cracked, and I felt the tears begin to pour down my cheeks - it was the first time I cried since I witnessed my fathers death.

"No, no... don't cry..." Brynjolf stirred uncomfortably. "I'm not... no, don't cry..."

"I'm not crying." I stated, looking away to wipe away the tears and rub my eyes. I was thankful no one else was around to see me cry.

"Of course not," said Brynjolf gruffly and slowly, "because that's what... not what lads do... right lad?" I stayed quiet, knowing he was saying this to avoid an awkward situation. I may have been young but I wasn't stupid. "You've got to understand that, this is the way life is. Sometimes we have to kill people - it's our last resort." I nodded, remembering the words I had grown up with - the words that seemed a lifetime old.

"Taking life is necessary when more lives are at risk." I said. Brynjolf nodded.

"You saved Vex's life today - that's no small feat lad." He put a hand on my shoulder. "I heard you took a souvenir?" I nodded. "Can I see it?" I opened the pouch at my waist and took out the small model. Brynjolf held it up to the light. "Nice swipe lad." He grinned, examining it. "It's not worth as much as you'd think though." He chuckled.

"I know." I said lowly.

"Then why steal it?" I felt mixed emotions to the word. Steal. It felt... strange. It was wrong, and treacherous - deceitful and dishonest. But at the same time, it felt liberating. It felt empowering. I liked it.

"I wanted it." I said simply.

"That's a good a reason as any." He handed it back to me. "I'd suggest you hide it well lad - I wouldn't trust the people around here with a septim." I grinned. I stood up with Brynjolf. "Get some sleep lad. When you get up, we'll start some jobs around the town." I nodded. I hugged him. I knew he felt awkward at this, but I needed it. I had felt so miserable and alone since coming to Skyrim - I missed my family - even Titus. I guess I just wanted somewhere to belong.

I guess I had found it.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Reviews...**_

_**Guest - **__Damn! Someone has foiled my dastardly plans! Thank you very much for your review - because of this review, I've chosen to add another chapter on him at twelve years old - the next chapter will be the last one that involves him as a twelve-year-old. Hope you enjoy this small little chapter! Keep reviewing!_

Chapter Six

Brynjolf had changed back into his fine merchant robes, as I had changed back into my shirt and doublet I had worn in Cyrodiil. I followed Brynjolf as we exited the Cistern through a ladder by the pathways over the pool of water. As I got to the top, I noticed that we were in a stone tomb - steps leading up to the ceiling. Brynjolf pulled a chain to our right and the ceiling began to move backwards. I dropped my mouth in awe.

"Impressive, huh lad?" Brynjolf grinned at my face. We walked up the stairs and that's when I realized - we were in a graveyard. I looked back to where we had emerged from - a stone coffin had moved back into the wall. As Brynjolf pushed a button in the centre of a diamond-like shape on the coffin, I couldn't help but wonder if someone was actually buried in there. I wouldn't put it past the Guild.

"What are we doing today?" I asked, following Brynjolf through the graveyard, looking back at the coffin moving to hide the stairs.

"Today, we're going to have some lessons." He said with a wink.

"Lessons?"

"On your magic." My interest piqued. "Vex told me about your fire, and something tells me that you didn't mean to use it." I rubbed the back of my head uncomfortably - he was right and he knew it. "Mercer has volunteered to give you a short tutorial." I gulped.

We moved across the wooden bridges and stone pathways until we came to the heart of Riften: the marketplace. Brynjolf took his place by his stall, taking a series of potions out of his bag. I looked to the centre of the marketplace, and found a small, boarded-up well. I noticed the sun shining through the cracks of the wood, slipping past the boards and down into the Ratway below. I wondered if this was directly above the cistern. It would be very convenient if it was. I moved back to Brynjolf, who has moved his large pink potions out on his stall. Mercer soon appeared next to the stall, which surprised me - as he didn't seem like the sort of person to appear in the city during the daytime. He grunted at me, and gestured for me to follow him.

I followed Mercer through the town - he really was an exceptional thief. He could steal anything he wanted - a ring off of a fiance's finger, a necklace off of a noblewoman. Anything at all. That's why it surprised me when he stole a tankard out of a man's hands without the man even noticing.

"I don't see how this petty theft is helping me with training." I informed him.

"Of course you don't - you've got no idea what's worth stealing." He grunted grittily.

"You've got a tankard - you'll be lucky if you get a septim for that." He drank from the tankard and pulled out a large and heavy gold ring. I let out a small chuckle, impressed by Mercer. Despite my dislike for him, he was here to help me - and I couldn't deny help from someone as skilled as him.

"Right now, your magic has only really come in use when you need it to right?" I nodded. "That's like a reflex for a mage - like swallowing; it's the equivalent of a dog rolling over. Now, _choosing_ to shoot fire from your hands," he pocketed the ring, "that's what makes you more than a puppy."

"You know, my tutor used to insult me as well, and it didn't help me learn at all."

"Listen boy, you're the one most behind at the Guild, and it's going to stay that way unless I can get you up to scratch. And that's not going to happen if you accidentally burst all of us into flames at any moment." I stayed quiet at this. I knew he was right - at the Guild I'd have to perform at the same standards of others - age was irrelevant. Not to mention the fact that I didn't really have any control over my magic - I could only control a small flame. But a big one? I was honestly too scared to try. Mercer stopped, leaning against the railing above the canal. "Alright, there we go, now he listens. Now, you've, what, burnt an elf, lit up a sewer and that's about it right?" I nodded.

"I also burnt one of the soldiers that ambushed me." I informed him.

"Your body doesn't know how to cope with this magic - everything's jumbled up; like a barrel full of bills. Only, for you, these bills are drenched in oil, and the barrel's got a candle lit on top of it." I nodded, understanding the reality of what he was saying - my magic was dangerous - not to just to other people, but to me as well. "Now, I'm going to teach you how to control your magic, and choose to turn it on."

"You think I can do that?"

"I certainly hope so. Otherwise, it could be me you're standing next to the day that you combust."

"So, onto today's lesson."

"Okay, back to the 'petty thievery': the first rule is to not be seen: move with the crowds - you'll just be another face to the mark. The second rule is to not be noticed by _other_ people around - they can alert the mark. The third rule, and the golden rule, is to know what's worth stealing. Be subtle." I nodded, remembering these tips. "And, as to why we're doing this - the adrenaline you get from stealing? That can set you off if you're not careful. So, we're going to need to train you to have a clear head when you're stealing - and that's what we're going to focus on - clearing your head." I nodded. "I mean, I don't expect you to do well - in fact I think you'll do shockingly, but you've got to start somewhere eh?" He winked. I felt a surge of determination - I'd prove him wrong! If I could plant Madesi's ring on Brand-Shei, I could do this.

Mercer was still laughing.

"Thanks for almost getting me arrested." I said sulked.

"More focus, and you would've had a weighty coin purse." He grinned. "Look, I never said it would be easy - in fact, I think I told you you'd be rubbish."

"Hey, you've been doing this for, like, twenty years - cut me a little slack on doing it for the first time in my life." I said, frustrated with myself.

"You'll get another chance - all beggars and pickpockets look the same to them - they won't recognize you next time. Although, that is why we usually wear hoods." He laughed at me. "Come on, we just need to find what's holding you back."

I looked across the marketplace to see a man dress in raven feathers and furs over his scarred steel armour. His blonde hair was knotted back, and his pale skin matched Brynjolf's - he was a Nord, that was for sure.

"Who's he?" I asked Mercer.

"That, my boy, is Ulfric Stormcloak." I instantly remembered my father telling me about him.

"The leader of the rebellion?"

"You're well-informed. Aye, he's the leader of the Stormcloaks - he led that ambush on your father's escort." I felt a mixture of anger and fascination at these words. This man, standing mere meters away from me, was the killer of my father. He was responsible for me losing everything. I wanted to hurt him, but I also wanted to know him. And I wanted him to know who I was. "You okay?"

"Do you think I'm okay?" I asked through gritted teeth. "He killed my father. He's the reason that I'm here, and Titus is back in Cyrodiil on his own." He grinned slightly - not amused by my anger, but satisfied at sussing me out.

"You worry a lot about other people don't you? You've nearly died multiple times, and you're still worrying about your brother, and your father - even though he's dead."

"What's your point?" I felt angry at him mentioning my father.

"No wonder you can't focus." He chuckled. "You're still thinking about all these people who fed you treats, pet your hair and told you you're not fit for the outdoors." I looked away, unable to deny this. I wanted to, I really wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. "What, do you still see yourself like they do? Like your brother did?"

"No." I answered, completely sure of myself. "I don't." I disliked Mercer already - more than anyone else I knew in the Guild, but what made me dislike him even more was how he didn't know me, yet he was talking like he did.

"Right, well I'll bet you this ring that your parents never thought much of you either." I shook my head at the weighty gold ring and scoffed, turning to walk away from him. I couldn't deny it though - they had often avoided blaming me for fighting with Titus because I was young and didn't know any better, but also because he was stronger than me. It was also a reason why my father hadn't insisted on the same training Titus received. Mercer laughed, following after me. "You're textbook! We need to get these people out of your head, and get you focused."

"These 'people' are my family. I can't just... cut myself off from them." I tried to explain in earnest.

"Keep on like this, and we'll have to send Vex with you on every job." He said, leaning back and leaning against the railing once more. "Tenebraeus can't steal a purse without someone holding his hand." He mocked me with a grin. "How can you not detest those," he jerked a thumb behind himself to the imprisoned Imperial legionnaires being transported through the city, "every time you see them?"

"You don't know them." I explained. "I've grown up with the soldiers - they're good men."

"They always are." Mercer rolled his eyes. "Sooner or later, you'll find out that every person is selfish, they're deceitful, and they will lie, cheat and steal to get what they want - take it from a thief - I spend a lot of time around people when they think they're alone."

"So that's your big truth?" I asked, unable to believe him.

"The sooner you learn it, the sooner I take off your leash. Remember this boy: people will betray you. Trust no one, not even the Guild - they're thieves remember. People are corrupt and treacherous. Every last one of them - don't ever forget that." I shook my head.

"You're wrong."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Sorry for the wait - this is the last chapter that features Tenebraeus as a twelve-year-old. It's more character development rather than plot development. Also - this is the time when the Dragonborn escorts Esbern to Riverwood from Riften - I don't know if I made it clear...**

**Just go with it.**

Chapter Seven

Family. I always thought that was the most important thing. But it wasn't. It really wasn't. It didn't define you, or give you a special bond with someone - family was a small congregation of people who happened to share physical features.

I realized this when Mercer showed me two figures leaving Riften at night. One was equipped in heavy furs and cumbersome, thick steel armour, a heavy two-handed sword sheathed on his back. The way he held himself - with such pride, and such confidence. There was no doubt on who he was when Mercer identified him as Titus. My brother.

"He didn't even ask about you." Mercer informed me, a small grin echoing through his voice. I kept quiet, watching the figures escape, my hair sweeping over my eyes in the harsh Nordic wind.

"Why would you show me that?" I finally asked. I couldn't understand why he chose to do so - what possible motive he possessed. More importantly, I couldn't understand why my brother had left me.

"I didn't show you anything, he did. That's _your_ brother. The only remaining part of your family, and he's left you. It didn't even take him that long to lose hope either. Just over a month."

"He doesn't know I'm alive."

"You think he would at least ask."

"Why would he ask thieves?"

"Because we would've heard. Stop lying to yourself, he chose not to look for you because he doesn't care." There was a pause. "I'm sorry boy."

"No," I said, turning around at Mercer, all fear and trembling evaporated at the sudden emergence of anger of his audacity, "you enjoyed that." He shook his head.

"You've got this rosy painting in your head, of what you think life _should_ be like. You've got to learn how to take control and see the world the way it truly is - it's the only way you'll be able to survive in it."

"What, like you?" I asked angrily. "Some deadbeat living out of the sewers? No one knows you exist apart from some cut-purses!" I exclaimed angrily.

"You have to get rid of these distractions." Mercer growled.

"These are people that I love - they are _not_ distractions!" I stated strongly - feeling emboldened by my anger.

"Then why can't you summon a flame big enough to burn a man? You've done it before, your body remembers how to, the only thing stopping you is these people that are still knocking about in your head, distracting you."

"These 'people' are my family!" I said, exasperated from repeating my point. "I can't just cut them out of my life! How cold do you expect me to be?" I yelled at him again, not caring about the guards that patrolled this wall.

"Don't forget what this is about!" Mercer hissed at me. "If you can't control your magic, we might as well kill the entire Guild right here and now, so get your head on straight. Or, do you want to go and ask your brother's permission for that too?" He asked in a mocking tone.

"What else do I have to do?" I asked. "Tell me! Why don't you tell me everything I have to do?" I tried to sound as threatening as I could, but Mercer only laughed.

"You're a sad little boy who's far away from home - I'm just trying to stop you exploding into flames."

"I've followed you around, done your petty thievery and listened to your illogical notions - you have no answers! You live in the sewers - you don't know anything about the real world!"

"Shut up and listen to me-"

"I am sick and tired of you telling me what to do!" I bawled at Mercer, rage possessing me completely. "I do not have to do anything you tell me to do!"

Mercer immediately started to back away, staring at my hands. As his face began to glow, I looked down to see the fire emenating from my hands. I could feel the heat - something I hadn't felt before. I began to back away from him.

"What...what's going on?" I asked - all rage and fiery anger forgotten as I felt an immediate return of fear and terror. He looked at the stones beside us, which began to tremble, as well as the stone wall we were standing on. I fell back, grabbing the wall beside us, and noticed the town of Riften that stood below us - it was vibrating terribly; the wooden overpasses that stood above the canals were sounding out in a shuddering series of cracks. I tried to steady myself, and stood up straight, turning to see the stones I had been leaning against had turned into a bright sapphire blue, and felt as cold as ice. I retracted my hand, and looked at it - it was igniting a mist, as cold and wintery as a breeze amongst a snow-topped mountain. Out of the mist, an electric blue spark flew up, snapping past my face by a fraction of an inch. I yelped out in fear, and looked up to an awed Mercer Frey. "What's happening?" I asked again. I closed my eyes, an instant pain shuddering across my skull, all through my skeleton. "I can't control it!" I shouted out in pain. I wrenched open my eyes to see a fist accelerating towards my face.

It all stopped.

***Gasp* Strange right? I hope you guys liked this chapter - it's the shortest one yet, about half the size of previous chapters, but I thought it was a nice little edition to him as a twelve-year-old. Anyway, review what you thought about it, because this is the chapter I'm most unsure about this chapter...**

**Also, to those who have reviewed, I just want to thank you - it's nice to know that people are reading and enjoying this story! I shall post another chapter later today - I'm just perfecting it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you guys for your input and support - it's always appreciated! Once again, check out Anna Stormcloak by Jen12040 if you've not already - it's the counterpart of this story, and it's really what inspired me to write this one - it's well written and has a fantastic storyline.**

_**Reviews...**_

_**PantharHadraag **__- Aha - but if a Mage did create an earthquake in Skyrim, how would anyone know about it? Besides, dragons returned so pretty much anything can happen... I'm not sure what you're thinking of there... but I'm scared you may have already sussed out a part of the story - Hope you enjoy this small chapter!_

_**xXicecreamIVIlad **__- Crassness? Bluntness? General hostility? Thanks for your review - I hope you continue reading this story, it means a lot. There's quite a big Mercer chapter coming up soon actually, now I think about it... stay tuned!_

Chapter Seven

Age: 17

Five years had passed since I had been inducted into the Thieves Guild. In that time, I had risen through the ranks of the thieves, proving my worth to them. I was no longer seen as the boy in need of a wet nurse - I had proven that I was at least as capable as the rest of the thieves - if not more so.

I approached a grinning Brynjolf with a swagger - the mission had gone as expected - without any flaws whatsoever.

"Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn has found himself in Whiterun's prison. How unfortunate for him." He said in mock innocence.

"Yet very fortunate for Maven." I grinned in response.

"Exactly." Winked Brynjolf, grabbing my forearm in greeting. "Now you're really grasping how our system works." He smiled in a full smile, making me feel proud for making him proud. "Maven sent word that you found something else while you were out there? Something important to the Guild?" He cocked an eyebrow. I nodded, and pulled out the folded yellowed note, handing it to him.

"It's that symbol in the bottom. I didn't recognize it, I figured that you might?" He took the note, eyes widening as he laid eyes on the symbol. He pulled his knotted and faded ginger hair back, examining the paper closer.

"This is the symbol from Goldenglow." He informed me. "On the bill of sale Vex retrieved - remember?" He shook his head, looking back to the paper in his hands. "This is beyond coincidence. First Aringoth, and now Sabjorn..." He looked up into my face, a horrified expression on his face. "Someone's trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the Guild."

"What can I do?" I asked immediately, ready and eager to prove myself once more.

"Mercer thinks he knows a way of identifying this new thorn in our side." Brynjolf stated. I rolled my eyes as he mentioned Mercer - as the years had progressed, I had only come to dislike the man less and less. As I had grown into a skilled thief - second only to Mercer Frey and maybe Brynjolf - I had not managed to control my magic as well as I should have - which I put down to the failure of Mercer to teach me. Don't get me wrong, I could make a sustaining flame, although I had nearly set the Guild alight a few times - it wasn't my fault - it was just hard to maintain control, not to say I hadn't marginally improved. "I wouldn't advise you roll your eyes at Mercer lad." Brynjolf warned me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, brushing him off - although I would take his advice, "I promise, I won't hurt his ego."

"Good, because that'd hurt you more than him." He said with a wink, although I could tell he was being genuine.

I made my way through the Guild, nodding towards the other resident thieves inside the cistern, which was still as run-down as ever. I moved past the intersection of the four paths and came to a large wooden desk behind a heavy chest and in front of a set of cases. In the chair was Mercer Frey, his hair as faded as Brynjolf's, and his face even more ragged.

"Ah, there you are." He acknowledged me. "I've consulted my contacts regarding the information recovered from Goldenglow five years ago, but no one can identify that symbol." I dropped the bill on his desk.

"There was the same marking at Honningbrew Meadery." Mercer thought for a moment - his face unreadable.

"It would seem our adversary is attempting to take us apart indirectly by angering Maven Black-Briar." He said lowly, more to himself than to me. "Very clever..."

"Maybe we should recruit them." I said sarcastically, earning a scowl from Mercer that made me urge to say more, but gave me the sense not to.

"Don't dismiss our adversary so easily. They're well-funded, patient and have been able to avoid detection for years." I nodded.

"You know, it sounds almost like you admire them." I chuckled nervously.

"I do." He said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "But don't mistake my admiration for complacency; our nemesis is going to pay dearly." I nodded.

"Good idea, but how? I mean, all we've got is a pair of notes."

"Because, even after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake." Mercer said, a smug, victorious smile crawling across his mouth. I narrowed my eyes, intrigued. "The parchment you just recovered mentioned a 'Gajul-Lei'. According to my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts - his real name is Gulum-Ei." He looked back down at the large book of numbers on his desk. "Slimey bastard." He muttered.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked eagerly; Mercer Frey may have been abusive, conceited and generally tempted all those around him to slit his throat in his sleep, but he was our leader - like a captain on a ship. We needed him - I doubted anyone else could ruin the Guild - anyone except Brynjolf that is.

"Gulum-Ei is our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude." He began to explain. "I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow Estate-"

"So he can finger our buyer." I nodded, returning Mercer's smirk - only mine was not as dark and malevolent as his.

"Get out there, shake him down and see what you come up with. Talk to Brynjolf before you leave as well - he wanted a word with you."

"He did?" I asked, looking back to where I had come from. "I was just talking to him, he didn't say-"

"Don't ask me about it boy, just go and talk to the man." I sighed, clenching my jaw to refrain myself from talking back - I had grown up with a lot of smacks in the face to learn my place.

"I can't believe Gulum-Ei's mixed up in all this." Brynjolf spoke quietly as he shook his head, holding the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "That Argonian couldn't find his tail with both hands." He said with a small chuckle at a reminiscence. "Don't get me wrong, he could scam a beggar out of his last septim...but he's no mastermind." I swallowed - it was obvious this man had been close with Brynjolf - and now he was with our enemy it seemed. I felt bad, as if I shouldn't do this; I would never want to hurt Brynjolf.

"Do you think he'll give me trouble?" I asked hollowly.

"Trouble? He's one of the most stubborn lizards I've ever met." He laughed: that fantastic unchanging laugh. "You've got your work cut out for you." I sighed - of course Mercer would give me the hardest assignments.

"So how do I get him to talk?" Brynjolf shrugged.

"You're going to have to buy him off. It's the only way to get his attention."

"And if it doesn't?" Brynjolf inhaled deeply as he thought.

"If that fails, follow him and see what he's up to. If I know Gulum-Ei, he's in way over his head and you'll be able to use it as leverage." I nodded, then turned to leave, but it still felt wrong to do so. I turned back to Brynjolf.

"Betrayal or not, I swear I'll let him live." I promised. Brnyjolf smiled - he was obviously pleased by this. Proud even.

"I'm glad to see you're embracing our methods." He said, although I could tell he was pleased for his old friend. "It would be a waste to lose a contact at the East Empire Company before we had the entire story." I grinned - definitely proud of me. Brynjolf wasn't one to openly express his feelings, and nor was I; growing up in the sewers under the reign of Mercer Frey hadn't encouraged one to become too sensitive or attatched to one another - but this man was my guardian. The one unchanging person who always stayed, who always looked after me when he had no reason to.


	9. Chapter 9

**Another quick update to make up for the time spent waiting. I didn't want to dwell on the sneaking part for too long - as it is an exceptionally long quest for sneaking, so let's just get on with the interesting parts eh? Tenebraeus is a hothead here but just go with it.**

_**Reviews...**_

_**xXicecreamIVIlad **__- Haha, you mean Anna? Well, that's not for another two years... I can promise you it's coming soon - patience is a virtue!_

Chapter Nine

I walked into the inn, looking at the patrons - no Argonians.

Save for one.

I moved over to the lizard-like creature, who sat at a table with a plat of cheese, bread and wine. He didn't notice me until I was sat down opposite him, taking the bread and pulling some away to eat myself.

"So, what do we have here?" I heard the arrogant smile in his voice. "Let me guess." He sniffed for a few moments, and ran his eyes over my clothes. "By your scent, I'd say you were from the Guild. But that can't be true because I told Mercer I wouldn't deal with them anymore." He took the bread back and resumed eating.

"I'm here about Goldenglow Estate." I said lowly. He immediately paused in his eating.

"I'm sorry, I don't deal in land or property." He said after a time, stammering slightly. "Now, if you're looking for goods, you've come to the right person." He laughed anxiously. I checked that the other patrons couldn't see - no. None of them were around this area of the inn. Perfect.

"Drop the act _Gajul-Lei_." I held up a hand, a small ball of fire flickering in front of my fingers. The Argonian immediately gulped.

"Oh, wait... did you say Goldenglow Estate? My apologies." He said, a sincerely apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry to say I know very little about that... bee farm was it?"

"You acted as a broker for it's new owner." I stated, confident I was right. He grinned anxiously once more.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I can't be expected to remember every deal I handle." He said, arrogantly proclaiming himself. This started to make me angry - his arrogance mainly.

"Tell me about Goldenglow, and we'll forget all about this." I asked, breathing to try and maintain my anger - if only to keep my magic in check.

"Are you threatening me boy?" He chuckled. "You'll have to do more than that. Now, there is an object I've been meaning to acquire, it's in the Blue Palace-" I swept a hand across the table, colliding with everything on the table and knocking the food onto the floor. I grabbed the Argonian by his neck and held him against the wall, fire crackling in my free hand, which was in front of his face.

"I'm done asking." I moved the fire closer to his face. "Tell me about Goldenglow and I won't flay you alive right here."

"Okay, okay!" He cried out in a strangled low voice. "I'll tell you what I know!" I dropped him from my grip and sat back down, waiting for him to do the same - which he did, albeit shakily. "I was approached by a woman who wanted me to act as the broker for something big." He explained in gasps. "She flashed a bag of gold in my face and said all I had to do was pay Aringoth for the estate." I remembered the cowering elf who had been my first victim. I immediately tried to perish the thought, and not show my weakness to the lizard. "I brought him the coin and walked away with her copy of the deed."

"Did she say why?"

"No, no not at all!"

"You didn't ask?"

"I tend not to ask too many questions when I'm on the job." He snapped, still rubbing his neck. "I'm sure you understand."

"You've got to know something." I said, raising my hand that held the flames.

"I don't - I swear!" He said, his eyes fixated on the flame. "I-I noticed she was quite angry and it was being directed at Mercer Frey-"

"Give me a name." I cut him off - I wasn't asking.

"In this business, we rarely deal in names; our identity comes from how much gold we carry. Maybe you should even start thinking about an alias for yourself-"

"You're lying." I stated - I could see it in his flickering eyes and anxious licking of the mouth. Being a thief, I spent enough time amongst liars and could spot one a mile off. A few women walked by, and I quickly closed my palm, extinguishing the flames. The Argonian smiled - feeling more emboldened now and sitting up straight.

"Look, that's all I know. I never promised I'd have all the answers." I sit there, seething out anger at this man, and at the women who were still here. "Now, since our transaction is done, I'll be on my way." He said, practically dashing out of the inn. I looked at the women, who were now moving up to the rooms to stay for the night. I leant back in the chair, cursing. He knew more than he was letting on, and he had got away.

Or at least he thought he did.

I grinned to myself, and walked to the pair of women. "Hello ladies." I smiled, and placed an arm around each of them. "Would you mind if I accompany you to your rooms?" The drunken duo giggled and proceeded to wrap their arms around me and laugh, leading me down to the walkway to their rooms. As soon as they were inside, they fell about with laughter, and lay on the beds. I grinned as the instantly fell asleep, and moved to take their jewelry and purses, then opened the window and moved out of the room, onto the top of the building. My eyes scouted over the dense population, until I found the Argonian looking over his shoulder continually, then exiting through the city gates. I grinned to myself.

"Got you."

I stood on a wooden platform above the immense loads of cargo inside the East Empire Company warehouse. There were staggering forty-foot drops inside the overgrown cavern that held the cargo, as well as trading ships in the water beside the wooden walkways. Gulum-Ei continued to walk on the walkway, past the series of guards that patrolled beneath me. I grinned to myself - of all of the dragon attacks I had heard about, Nords still couldn't seem to grasp the concept of looking up. Although, I was hidden in shadows, therefore it would take an exceptionally observant person to spot me.

I noticed the Argonian suddenly slip behind a series of crates and cargo, and had it not been for his emerald scales or the fact that I had been intently watching him in particular, I would not have realised that he disappeared into a slit between the rock formations, hidden by the cargo. I grinned to myself once more - he had dealt with thieves before, but had never thought to make sure he wasn't followed? Even after talking with one?

I silently dropped from the cargo and and made my way towards the rock passage, where I noticed that more cargo was hid here - things like dragon bones and scales, long nine-foot gold chains. This must've been black market type valuables.

I noticed Gulum-Ei walking across a series of wooden planks over a deep, dark river which my instincts screamed at me not to go into. I began to creep along the planks, trying to keep my balance. As I got closer, I heard thick Nordic accents.

"...picking pockets, now that's art...no rough stuff, just take it and go."

"...not much fun though..."

I let out a silent curse - really? More of those bandit/warden/guard types? I came to the resolve of sneaking past them - Brynjolf had never condoned killing, unless it was in self-defense. Much like my father had, an age ago.

I hadn't thought about my father in a long time - I tried not to, given how I became melancholy instantaneously, but now I did, I began to draw similarities between him and Brynjolf - both had a code of honour to live by, and neither encouraged killing. It was proof of how Brynjolf was an honourable man. The most honourable I think I had ever met.

I fell back a few steps in surprise; I had been so absorbed in my thoughts I hadn't realised that Gulum-Ei was a few meters in front of me with two other men - bandits for certain. They wore a series of assorted furs, and sat around drinking mead. At the centre of the clearing that they occupied, there was the source of light - the fire. I licked my lips and stretched out a hand slowly, trying to calm the fire. I closed my eyes to concentrate and tried to harness the heat, tried to surpress it. The sound of alert made me smile to myself - that was only the third time I had done that in my life. I was improving - I was gaining control! Finally!

I stood up and walked over to the first Nord bandit, and clapped my arm around him, strangling him. He let out a few panicked breaths, but as I choked him tighter and clapped a hand on his mouth, his arms stopped flailing and he fell limp onto me, nearly falling on me like an anchor. I checked his pulse - which was still steady - and lowered him to the ground.

I moved in the darkness past the smoking wood, where the other bandit was knelt trying to make a fire desperately. I kicked the back of his legs, bringing him down even lower, and wrapped an arm around him, choking him as well. He grabbed my forearm, however, and leant forwards, toppling me onto the smoking firewood. I caught a glimpse of the steel axe that came flying down towards me, and I rolled out of the way, grabbing a log of the wood and sending it straight into his unprotected head, which now spouted blood. I panted, watching the pool of scarlet drown the dirt beneath my feet. I turned to Gulum-Shei, who had grabbed a torch, lit it and was now standing there, watching me in horror. I started to walk towards him, wiping some of the blood off of my face.

"Now, there's no need to do anything rash." He said, stumbling backwards. "This isn't as bad as it seems. I was going to tell Mercer everything, honestly!" He shouted, exasperated. Of course, that wasn't why he was shouting.

"The guards are miles back Gulum-Shei. They can't hear us." He desperately flitted his eyes around, as if an escape route would pop up, or the dead guard or his friend would.

"Please... he'll have me killed!" Gulum-Shei cowered. I threw a hand towards him, in an attempt to hit him, although my fist never reached him - he flew back across the room and smacked into the rocks of the cavern. I couldn't help smiling to myself - I was gaining control over my magic! Granted, I hadn't intended to do that, but I knew I could now! I was sure I could monitor it...

"Tell me now, and I'll decide whether or not Mercer needs to know."

"There's no need to tell him!" He cried. "I'll tell you everything." He relaxed slightly, allowing him to speak at his own pace. "It's Karliah... her name is Karliah." I waited for him to continue, which he didn't.

"You say that name like I should know it."

"Mercer never told you about her?"

"Why would he?"

"Karliah is the thief responsible for murdering the previous Guild Master, Gallus. Now she's after Mercer."

"And you're helping her?"

"Help...? No, no! I didn't even know it was her until after she contacted me! Please! You have to believe me!" I sighed, pacing back past the bodies. This was big - bigger than we had previously thought.

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know! When I asked her, she just muttered 'where the end began'." I stood there, the torch flickering on the ground behind him, showing the dim silhouettes of the bodies behind me. "Here, take the Goldenglow Estate Deed as proof. And when you speak to Mercer, tell him I'm worth more to him alive." I just stared at him, and turned back to leave. His lies had made me angry enough to kill him - which I would have done, were it not for my promise to Brynjolf, and for the fact that it would hurt him.

Besides, we had bigger things to worry about - there was a vendetta with a thief that knew our ways - a traitorous thief with inside information.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm really sorry I haven't uploaded in a while guys - I've really been just so busy... but I can't disappoint my favourite readers right? I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It's a good one I think, I really liked writing this one.**

**Shoutouts to:**

_**Bhronline**_

_**SirAC**_

_**Carcturus334**_

_**dragonlorerd6**_

**The people who have favourited this story! And also:**

_**C-Darwin**_

_**Ichiro2000**_

_**SirAC**_

_**WolfGunn1331**_

_**dragonlorerd6**_

_**jen12040**_

_**xXixexreamIVIlad**_

**I've repeated a couple of names I know, but this list of people are the followers.**

**I wanted to say a special thank you to each and every one of you! The support I've got is amazing, and it's really great to have such a good group of readers! I hope you enjoy this 5-page chapter, and I hope it makes up for the delay!**

_**Reviews...**_

_**PantherHardraag **__- It is isn't it? Well, it's five years later, so Tenebraeus is seventeen, I don't know if we could really call him grown up though... enjoy this chapter!_

Chapter Ten

I walked up to Mercer's desk and waited for him to notice me. It took a full minute until he finally spoke, although he will still looking down at his business ledger.

"Did Gulum-Ei give up any information on our buyer?" I nodded, although it seemed pointless, as he didn't look up at me.

"He said Goldenglow Estate was purchased by Karliah."

He immediately, took a step backwards, as if the news had hit him so hard it had sent him stumbling backwards. His tight, narrow slits of eyes were now as wide as the coins he craved.

"No... it can't be! I haven't heard that name in decade... This is grave news indeed. She's someone I hoped never to cross paths with again." He slumped back against the shelves behind him, a hand creeping up along his pale face and rubbing his forehead.

"Gulum-Ei also told me she was a murderer." Mercer nodded, and turned away from me, facing the bookshelf.

"Karliah destroyed everything this guild stood for." He muttered. He carefully looked back to me, and said in a quivering voice. "She murdered my predecessor in cold blood and betrayed the guild. After we found out what she had done we spent months trying to track her down but she just vanished."

"Why has she returned?"

"Karliah and I were like partners. I went with her on every heist. We watched each other's backs!" He kicked a foot into the desk, sending all the piles of coins tumbling across the cracked surface; I flinched back from the sudden sound, as did the others who had gathered at the increasing anger of Mercer. "I know her techniques, her skills. If she kills me, there'll be no one left that can possible catch her! If only we knew where she was..." I paused, unsure of whether I would have my head detached for speaking. Uncertainly, I opened my mouth, and spoke a few seconds later in a shivering voice.

"Gulum-Ei told me she said 'where the end began'."

Mercer looked up at me - his hair was dripped down in front of his wild silver eyes, and the corners of his mouth were pulled up as if they were played by the strings of a puppeteer. The smile was not one that was caused by something funny; there was a unsaid by unanimous feeling that Mercer's smile bode ill for us all.

"There's only one place that could be." He murmured. "The place she murdered Gallus... a ruin called Snow Veil Sanctum. We have to go out there before she disappears again."

"'We'?"

"Yes, I'm going with you and together we're going to kill her. Here's your payment for Solitude." He threw me a hefty purse - probably choosing amongst the collection of them at random. "Prepare yourself and meet me at Snow Veil Sanctum, we can't let her slip through our fingers!" He went to walk past me, an eager silver glint in his eyes. I grabbed a hand onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Why do you want me to come?" He grabbed my shoulder, an inane grin of malice carved on his face.

"We all have our part to play boy." And with that, he exited the Cistern, leaving me standing beside the desk of coins.

I dismounted the horse and landed into ankle-deep snow. It crunched upon impact, sending a shiver up my spine and into my trembling skull. I pulled a leg out of the heavy sheets of snow and began making my way towards him.

"Mercer?" I called over the blazes of the wind, wrapping my numbed fingers under my armpits in an attempt to keep them warm. I made out his silhouette amongst the rage of the blizzard. He was stood like a statue - jutted against the whirlwind of snow. His dark like leather was tarnished with numerous white speckles, which had also been entangled into his mess of greying brown hair.

I eventually reached him, standing right beside him, shivering and shaking madly, but he still stood still, looking at the iron doors at the front stone mound that had grown out of the ground in front of us.

"Good. You're finally here." He murmured - but still he did not look at me. I got the distinct impression he was talking to himself, or someone else. His eyes still had the inane glint splashing around his iris. He turned towards me. "I've scouted the ruins and I'm certain Karliah is still inside."

"You saw her?" he looked at me as if the suggestion was unfathomable to have happened.

"No. I found her horse." I glanced around for the horse, but didn't find one. Nothing. I began to grow alarmed - had she escaped already? "Don't worry," Mercer said, at my apparent anxiousness, "I've taken care of it." He jerked his head over his shoulder to a larger lump of snow beside the mound. "She won't be using it to escape." He smiled, a smug and self-satisfied smirk working its way across his face, revealing insanity at its peak. I began to feel sick at the bottom of my stomach, feeling as if I should retch against one of the many ruined pillars cascaded in snow. "Let's get moving. I want to catch her inside while she's distracted." He said, the smile wiped from his face as fast as the snowflakes descending upon us. He walked up to the iron doors, which were already unlocked, and opened one, closing it behind me as I stepped inside. He appeared behind me as I glanced back to him for instruction. "Take the lead."

The inside of the tomb was not warm, but it did not hold the same harsh winter as the outside did, which was a relief for me. I made my way down the stairs, cautiously looking out for a ghoul or a vampire running out - I remembered the bed time stories my mother used to tell me - tales of courageous adventurers who would prove their honour and save a damsel in distress with charm and finesse-

I immediately felt a hand at the back of my tunic, flinging my backwards from my next step, as Mercer pointed to where my next foot would've landed: a brass plate that was raised above the rest of the floors. His eyes swept between two small arrow heads that were protruding ever so slightly out of the walls. He grabbed the front of my tunic and brought me close to his face, teeth bared and eyes flaming as he growled lowly. "Make certain you keep your eyes open. Karliah is as sharp as a blade." He shoved me back with his hand, sending me back into the wall. "The last thing I need is you blundering into a trap and warning her that we're here." He proceeded to move past me, until we came to an intersection of long narrow tunnels - I felt like a rat in a maze. Ironic, given how we came from the Ratway.

Mercer slowly began to take sniffs of the air. "Karliah is here." He said in between the sniffs. "What does she expect to find..." he caught glance of me following him and widened his eyes, as if he had only just remembered that I was there. I found myself feeling very scared, as the golden gleaming hilt of his sword looked a little too friendly. "Let's go." He said, leading me down one of the many networks of tunnels. "I went her head on my mantle." He snarled, his voice soaked in anticipation. I couldn't help but slow my footsteps behind him. I would have stopped following him completely, but I was positive that I wouldn't get back to Riften alive if I left him now - he'd probably see it as a betrayal.

After walking down the tunnel for what felt like half a mile, we came to a wide walkway, the end of which held a thick iron wall, with three insignia carved onto three rings, the centre of all three held a grove for some kind of claw.

"Ah, it's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors." Mercer grinned. "How quaint."

"A puzzle door?" I asked, bemused. I'd heard of doors with certain lock mechanisms, but never puzzles. This didn't intrigue me - I was too preoccupied with Mercer's uncertain temperance to be intrigued with puzzles. I guess being a thief took more luxuries than I thought it did.

"It's self explanatory." He said, his eyes fixed on the puzzle door. "Without the matching claw they're normally impossible to open." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "And since I'm certain Karliah already did away with it, we're on our own." I sighed.

"So what, we came all this way for nothing?"

"No, we didn't." He smirked - he had an idea once more. Mercer Frey was, without a doubt, the man with a plan. "This is where you play your part boy."

"My part?"

"Your magic." He said. "Use it." I scoffed.

"You can't be serious." His face remained the same. "I don't think I can make fire hot enough to smelt down a wall!"

"I'm not asking you to smelt it."

"What would you have me do then?"

"Tear it down." I outright laughed.

"You're insane." I shook my head. "I can't do that! I can barely conjure a flame now, and you want me to do something like that?"

"Five years ago, we both stood on the gates of Riften and you made the entire city tremble. That's no small feat boy. There's something about you! Something different to other mages. Ever since then, all that training, all that pain and effort and endurance has been preparing you for now. It's time for you to play your part boy." I swallowed, too afraid of what would happen to question him. His eyes began to burn brightly with his unstable glee.

I took a few breaths and then extended my hands, one close to my chest, and the other towards the door. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I tried to imagine myself grasping the door, extending energy from my palms, which almost felt like trying to throw boulders a few yards. I heard the iron begin to creak. I felt sense gliding around the door, searching for a weak component for me to grab onto and pull or push. I searched and searched and searched, creaking the iron constantly and patrolling within the metal to find a rusted element. Finally, I felt it dislodge, vibrating my senses like a spider's web. I immediately clutched onto the door with my energy and began to try to twist the rings on the front, feeling the stones crunch against each other until finally I opened my eyes, my energy still and all vibrations silent and unmoving. I took a deep breath and then tried to simulate my energy grasping the door with my hands and brought the door down into the ground. Mercer let out a cry of joy, still inane and sadistic.

I slumped against the wall, my face steeped in sweat. I tried to wipe under my nose, but it wasn't sweat - I had a worth of thick crimson blood coating my fingertips. I pulled my hand across the blood, wiping it off of my face. I began to walk into the next room behind the puzzle door - a grand stone hall with pillars and stairs that educated me on the building quality of Nords.

I took another step, but stopped. One second later, I was looking down at the sudden intrusion in my chest. The black arrow had ebony raven feathers scruffily jabbed into the shaft, which my blood now began to coat. I fell down to my knees, my vision blurring into an iridescent scope. I saw the legs of Mercer step over me and move towards the stairs. I tried to call out for help, but I couldn't say anything - I couldn't breathe. I began to gasp and grab for my throat, but it was no good. I was alive, but I felt like I was dying. Mercer didn't pay me a glance - he just stood there, his back to me! What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he helping me?

"Do you honestly believe your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?"

I looked up to see Mercer was not talking to me - he was facing a silhouetted figure, clad in ragged black leathers and linens. She had an arrow notched in her bow and Mercer's golden blade was drawn, pointed directly at her chest.

"Give me a reason to try." She hissed. I heard Mercer laugh once more. The two began to circle each other, daring the other to make a move.

"You're a clever girl Karliah." Mercer chuckled. "Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired."

"To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies." Her bow was aimed at his stomach. "It was the first lesson Gallus taught us."

"You always were a quick study." Mercer let out a low, drawling chuckle.

"Not quick enough!" She snapped back at him, the arrow pulled back further. "Otherwise Gallus would still be alive..." She rumbled.

"Gallus had his wealth and he had you!" Mercer barked at her. "All he had to do was look the other way!"

"Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales?" She was full of fire and ferociousness - enough to match Mercer's insanity. "Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?"

"Enough of this mindless banter!" He began to advance on her. "Come, Karliah; it's time for you and Gallus to be reunited!"

I dropped my head back onto the floor, groaning in pain. I tried to keep my heavy eyelids open, and forced myself to watch what was happening - I had to do something! I had to use my magic to help!

Within the few seconds I had looked back to the pair, only Mercer was standing there, a small dagger drawn as well as his sword.

"I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise you, the next time we meet, it will be your undoing." Her voice was laced in hate and anger as footsteps echoed throughout the sanctum, and then she was gone.

Mercer turned back to me, and began to walk, his sword scraping against the floor. His hair was once more dangling in front of his wild, animalistic eyes.

"How interesting. It appears Gallus' history has repeated itself." He stopped a little bit away from me, the sword still touching the stone slabs on the floor. "Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most?" He whispered, then knelt down and leant in to quietly inform me. "The fact that this was all possible because of you." He let out a titter - a demonic and taunting second of a chuckle before he spoke again. "And you played your part beautifully." He stood back up, his sword no longer touching the ground. "Farewell boy. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards." His eyes began to shine once more, and as I dropped my head back on the floor, trying to swallow gasps of breath, I looked him dead straight in the eyes. If I was to die, he would remember my death - he would remember how I looked him straight in the eyes.

The sword plunged deep into my stomach, twisting into my body. The pain was excruciating, but I could not voice it - I couldn't speak. I contorted my face, unable to move my body or fight back, just shut my eyelids fiercely. Finally, the blade was removed, and I slumped my head back onto the floor, gasping and panting. My vision blurred until I was seeing double - no - triple. Footsteps echoed into a string of unending walks and the howling blizzard outside rained into my ears. I was going to die now. At least I would see my father again - tell him I love him. I had never said it while I was with him - it just never seemed to cross my mind. I felt ashamed because of that. And I could see my mother again. I hadn't seen her in years. I missed her - so _so_ much. At least now I could have my family again. I hoped so anyway.

I hoped that Brynjolf would be okay - that he wouldn't fall to the treacherous thief, nor would Vex.

I hoped that wherever he was, Titus was alive and healthy too.

But somehow, even more than anything else - more than hoping I would see my parents when I died, I really didn't want to die. I really, really hoped I wouldn't die.

**Cliffhangers galore!**

**I really hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter - it's such a climactic reveal, I wanted to do it justice. Review once again on what you think about:**

**- How I'm adapting the quest into the story**

**- How I'm doing on the character development**

**What you would like to see more of**

**Thanks guys! I'll catch you next time... unless Tenebraeus dies! ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's another small chapter - hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Shoutout to the latest user that's favourited my story, buetly - I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

_**Reviews...**_

_**SirAC **__- Thank you! Okay, I'll be sure to include those! And 'Mad Mage Skillz' are en route I promise - I've already figured out how it's going to be coming around - as Heath Ledger once said "It's all part of the plan"._

Chapter Eleven

Cold. Numb. Wet.

The snow bit at my ears, wetted my hair and froze my skin. I shuddered, bringing my gnashed fingers up to my arms, my muscles aching. I tried to open my eyes, only to be greeted by a howling wind that glared into my eyes. I shut my eyes quickly, and proceeded move backwards, as if to escape the wind. I felt a freezing object hit my back, stopping me from moving any further. I brought my knees up to my chest and dropped my head onto them. I just wanted to lie here forever. I wanted to lie here and die.

Wait a moment... die?

My hands flew to my stomach, where I felt a long and narrow pain along the side of my torso. I groaned and dropped my head back, lolling onto the stone mound. I opened my eyes as I remembered everything that had transpired. How could he? I mean, why? From what I had heard, he had betrayed the former Guildmaster, Gallus. I didn't know why though. Or why he had tried to kill me either.

This awakened one thought in my head - why was I alive? I felt myself dying as he stabbed me. I felt the blade twist into my gut, and yet somehow he had failed to kill me. How?

I flickered open my eyes once more, this time enduring the snowy whirlwind in my eyes. I brought my hands up to the stone behind me, which felt like pure icicles forming around my hands. As I stood up, leaning on the stone mound, I began to steady myself, grabbing the wound on my stomach. My legs instantly began to buckle, and I collapsed onto the stone mound in pain.

"Easy, easy! Don't get up so quickly." I felt a pair of hands grasp me. Instinctively I flinched away, but her grip was different to other people's - her hands were gentle and were supporting my weight - not like Mercer who would grab you in a vice grip. I looked up to the woman who had spoken - her clothes were more like rags, with the burnt edges of her greying armour being soaked by the rain. A long curved bow was strapped to the matching black quiver mounted on her back. "How are you feeling?" I sat down on the mound, resting my head between my knees, feeling as though I was about to be sick. I gradually looked up at her, examining her face: I could just about make out the very light blue skin and matching eyes. She was a Dunmer - a dark elf. I had read about them - native to Morrowind. I coughed, which prevented me from inquiring into her race - which I guess would have been impolite anyway. As I coughed though, I grabbed my chest and remembered the scruffily made arrow, and then looked up to the Dunmer's quiver - which was full of Raven and Hawk feathers.

"Hold on," I said, realizing who she was, "you shot me!"

"No, I saved your life." She insisted. I pushed myself up from the rock, trying to get away from her, but she simply caught me before I hit the ground and placed me back on the stone mound. "My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out." I thought for a moment, examining her resolve. I knew that Dunmer were, generally, dishonest. "Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation." I scoffed - although I was a seventeen year old boy who had one hand on the wound in his chest, and the other on the wound on his stomach - I was hardly a fierce warrior. This woman was at least fifty! I took a few deep, freezing cold breaths.

"So why do it? Why save me?"

"My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way and it prevented your death." She stated in a matter-of-fact way. I nodded, seeing as she had a point - regardless of what had happened, she had prevented my death. But there was something about her I didn't trust - she was a Dunmer... I knew it was wrong to distrust someone because of their race but the stereotypes came about for a reason.

Besides, I couldn't even trust my Guild Master.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Without the antidote I administered, you'd be as still as a statue. I treated your wounds and didn't leave you defenseless." She sighed and clenched her arms as she looked away from me. "The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect." She muttered, angry at herself. "I only had enough for a single shot and yet I used it on you. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive." She said, frustrated.

"Why alive? I thought you would want him dead."

"Mercer must be brought to the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus' murder."

"And how are you going to prove that now? I mean, no offence, but I don't think they'd take your word over Mercer's."

"My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus' remains. I suspect the information we need is inside." It all fitted perfectly - Mercer's betrayal, Karliah saving my life - I could find no flaw or lie in the story. Whether Mercer was a traitor or not before all this had happened was irrelevant - he was now a traitor for sure.

"Well, what's it say?"

"I wish I knew." She sighed - her eyes dropped into a look of despair. "The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before." She sat down next to me and put her head in her hands. I could only imagine what she was feeling. If she had been trying to find a way to prove herself innocent against Mercer's claims for all these years, only to now have it all slip away, I would feel as helpless as she must have. I also felt guilty - I was the one who was responsible for him getting away - if I wasn't there, she would've been able to shoot him instead of me.

"Perhaps it can be translated?" I asked hopefully, trying to help rectify the situation. "I mean, Brynjolf will know what to do. Maybe there's a book we can steal-"

"Enthir." She said suddenly.

"What?"

"Gallus' friend at the College of Winterhold... of course."

"What are you talking about?" I asked as she stood up, no longer distraught or desperate - I could see her eyes flickering about, showing the mechanics of her mind working in overdrive.

"It's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."

"Nightingale?" Karliah suddenly began to shift uneasily.

"I suppose you're the only one who'll believe me now." She sighed once more. "There were three of us. Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften." She shook her head. "I'll tell you more about it later, Right now you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation." She said, handing me the journal - an old and tattered brown book with a strange metal insignia on it - a nightbird cradling a moon with it's wings.

"Why me?" I asked. "Just once, I wish I could do something, and that would be the end of it all - right now I feel like the end of one job leads to another."

"Doesn't the end of one day lead to another?" She pointed out. "I cannot trust anyone else to do this, and I need to figure out where Mercer will have gone."

"Then you translate the journal - I'll take care of Mercer."

"You?" She tittered. "You're a boy."

"I'm old enough to take care of him!"

"Really? You don't even carry a blade."

"I don't need one."

"Oh, I know - you were the one who opened the puzzle door weren't you? Impressive, but Mercer has thirty-three years of experience on you. I promise, Mercer will be brought to justice, but now is not the right time. I've been waiting twenty-five years - you can afford to wait a little longer."

I reluctantly nodded and took the journal, placing it in one of my pouches on my belt. then began to crunch through the snow towards my horse, only to find it lying dead in the snow.

"Jak." I said, examining the limp animal. I made out several sword wounds across the creature - the most prominent being a long gash along it's underbelly, staining the pure white snow with it's scarlet blood. I shook my head in anger. It was Mercer. He was taking no chances - he had killed my horse. I stood up, uncertain of what to do. I looked up to the dark night sky and examined the stars. Eventually, I found the brightest star, which meant North must be behind me.

I turned around and began to crunch through the snow on my journey to Winterhold.

I opened the door, shaking off the snow from my hood. I pulled it down and looked around the tavern. It was fairly full - every table occupied. I moved over to the inn keeper, who examined me carefully.

"I'm looking for Enthir." He grunted and nodded towards a figure sitting alone by the wall, drinking from a tankard. I nodded my thanks and walked over to him.

He was a Bosmer - a wood elf. His slightly green skin glistened in the candlelight, and he wore a series of rich robes, blue and red and white, and carried a satchel across his chest. I had heard stories about the Bosmer before - they were adepts with a bow. I heard that they had actually invented it - they were, without a doubt, the best archers in Tamriel. They usually kept to themselves - living in the woods, living off the forest and it's inhabitants.

I sat down beside him, waiting for him to notice me. He eventually did, and rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Yes, yes, what is it?"

"I've been sent by Karliah." I informed him.

"Ah." He nodded, putting the tankard on the table. "Then she's finally found it."

"You mean the journal?" He nodded, and extended a hand. "There's a problem with it." I tried to explain.

"A problem? Let me see it." I opened my pouch and took out the journal, handing it to him. He flipped through a couple of pages and then realized the problem. He closed his eyes and hung his head. "This is just like Gallus. A dear friend, but always too clever for his own good..." He laughed a little, like he was reminiscing about the man. He looked back to me with a slight smile. "He's written all of the text in the Falmer language."

"Falmer language?" I asked, puzzled. What little I had heard about Falmer were that they were goblin-like creatures that dwelled in mountains. They actually had a language? I had never heard of one speaking before. "Well, you can read it then? Can you translate it?"

"I can recognize it." He corrected me. "And no, I cannot. However, I know someone who might." He began to drink from his tankard again.

"Well, who is it?"

"Patience boy, patience. I'd wager that the court wizard of Markarth, Calcelmo, may have the materials you need to get this journal translated." He closed the journal and handed it back to me. I took it, but he remained holding it for a moment. "A word of warning: Calcelmo is a fierce guardian of his research. Getting the information won't be easy."

"Regardless, I will return with the materials you need." I took the journal back, placing it back into my pouch.

"I'd advise discretion in your dealings up in Markarth - there are many people who ill-favour the Thieves Guild." Enthir warned me.

"You don't need to tell me twice."


	12. Chapter 12

**So, from the Reviews, I guess everyone's enjoying this story? Or at least, I hope so... anyway, this story hasn't really had any really thief-like moments, so I figured that I'd have to change that - it is called the Thief after all right? I mean, I might as well have just called him Garret... (Brownie points to anyone who gets that).**

**Also, I'm sorry for not updating in a while, I've been busy with stuff... the good news is that I've written the longest chapter yet - Seven pages *cue fireworks*. So, I hope you guys like this chapter - especially you **_**SirAC**_**, I put in some 'MAD MAGE SKILLZ' just for you... there'll be more, I promise.**

_**Reviews...**_

_**SirAC **__- Ah - this is where it gets very interesting... unlike any other story you have read on FanFiction, save 'Anna Stormcloak' by Jen. I can promise you that this story is an epic one... I'm not too sure how long it will be at the moment, but you're in for one roller coaster of a ride my friend..._

**Shout outs to:**

_**heylen2000**_

_**FairyLightning**_** - who has favourited **_**and**_** followed the story... brownie points for you!**

Chapter Twelve

Calcelmo was, without a doubt, impatient. He was an Altmer, which explained his high opinion of himself, but I doubt I had ever met someone that was as arrogant as he. He spoke in quick sharp breaths, his voice cutting through the air like an arrowhead. I found this out as I walked into the ruined underbelly of Understone Keep. His hooded face turned towards me, lips pursed and face narrow and angular, suiting his voice. He was so lean I doubted he ever stopped whatever he was doing to eat or sleep.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" I took a breath, trying to restrain myself at this annoyance.

"I hear you're the authority on ancient Falmer." I said, trying to flatter the arrogant old man. His lips turned upwards into a jagged, snake-like smile.

"Then you were well informed. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my magnum opus on the subject." He straightened up a little, as if his weighted pride required extra support. "I'm calling it 'Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue'. It will most certainly revolutionize the way we understand these ancient beings."

"Perhaps I could view your work?" I asked half-heartedly - I knew what the answer would be - the old man definitely wanted to spite me for some reason...

The old Altmer's eyes widened in disbelief, with the heavy bags of dried skin tightening as he narrowed his eyes into reptilian slits in distrust.

"Preposterous!" He cried aloud. "That research represents years of personal toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim!"

"So?"

"So, it's not finished!" He snapped. "You think I'd let anyone see it incomplete?" He muttered, scoffing. "Boy must be mad..." He turned away from me, back to his piles of books on an oak station, filled with brewing glasses of white and blue smoke. As he picked up some books, throwing them onto the stone floor, which was already occupied with strange books with various symbols on them, I noticed pages slip out and drift past stone tables around his work stations, filled with golden metal instruments and relics.

"But...I'm a great admirer of your work!" I tried to say as innocently as possible. He laughed out loud, and talked with his back to me.

"Do not think I am as easily swayed as some tavern wench, or merchant's daughter. Your gilded words may help them open their doors and spread their legs, but my doors will stay firmly shut." I clenched my jaw.

"Grant me access or else." I said, marching around to him, and opening a fist full of flames.

"Forgive me, at my age, death seems very familiar to me; many Mages have threatened me with it, and here I still stand. You will have to do more than a few parlour tricks to coerce me." He turned back to his work. "When I finish, you may see with everyone else."

"I can't wait for your perfectionist compulsions - I need to get in there now."

"Has no one ever told you to have patience boy? I'd think your father would have taught you patience..."

"My father is dead old man."

"That's a shame. Or rather, it would be if my sympathy extended to impetuous, self-righteous walk-ins." I gritted my teeth and let out and angry breath, looking around the work area as for a means of something - anything to throw at the elf. My eyes dropped onto a small brass key, hanging from his belt. I glanced at the Altmer's eyes, which were still fixated on his work. I outstretched a hand and focused on the shape of the key, feeling it's weight and size. Within a second, I summoned it over to me, catching it in my hand and concealing it up my sleeve. I looked back to Calcelmo, who hadn't noticed a thing.

"Fine, forget it then."

"Already have." He replied dryly. I turned around and marched out of the ruins, shaking my head in frustration at the arrogance of the old man.

As soon as I was out of the ruins, and by the entrance of the archaic stone keep, I examined the key: it was fairly small, and very light. It glimmered dully in the firelight, and seemed fairly old. If Calcelmo had been researching into the Falmer as long as he said he had, the key to his museum must have been equally old. There was a fair chance that this was it.

I moved down the crumbling corridors, and noticed a guard standing to attention, a golden door locked behind him. I figured this to be the museum, given how the door was scratched and scuffed, with the doors towering and weighty, probably to signify it's importance; the sort of place an Altmer would deem suitable to flaunt a lifetime of superior achievements.

The guard began to eye me anxiously as I approached. I kept my face clear, calmly walking up each step at a time until I came to the top. The guard rested his hand on the hilt of his axe, tilting it slightly towards me as I approached.

"Is this Calcelmo's museum?"

"Yes, no visitors today." He grunted in the familiar Nordic accent.

"Perhaps there is an early visitor's fee to pay?" The guard's eyebrow raised...

"A visitor's fee?"

"An _early _visitor's fee."

"An _early _visitor's fee?" He repeated in the same tone.

"Indeed. Let's say, fifty coins?" I saw the guard's eyes widen at the thought of spending the gold in a tavern. I opened the pouch on my belt and removed a small purse of twenty gold coins. "Here, as I said - fifty coins." The guard reached out for the purse, so as to feel the coins inside. I pulled the purse back. "Do we have an accord?" He nodded, an eager smile on the purse. I handed it over to him, allowing him to examine the contents, while glancing around cautiously for other guards. "Pleasure doing business with you my man." I grinned, allowing myself to slip past him, unlock the doors and go inside.

The interior of Calcelmo's 'museum' was hardly worth boasting about - the walls were cracked and fractured, which immediately made me very conscious of how much weight was depending on these broken bricks, all greying and rotten. However, the slabs were vast, a single block being at least six foot tall.

I looked to my right, noticing another series of guards. I darted to the wall, pushing myself up against it and very stealthily peering around the corner of the wall to see the pair of guards examining the museum's contents. I cursed silently under my breath, doubting I had enough coins to bribe all the guards an obsessive like Celcelmo would've hired.

I glanced my eyes around the room, noticing all the pools of oil and bursts of steam that littered the walls, violet pools of liquid seeping through the cracks of the floor; a sickly resemblance to blood as it swept through the cracks of the slabs. I turned my gaze back to the guards, taking note of their swords; they would have to come close to attack me.

I outstretched a hand carefully, trying to grasp one of the dozen golden pipes that clung to the shattered walls. I could feel the freezing cold steam coursing like blood through a vein. I closed my eyes to block out visual distractions, just like Mercer had taught me to. The thought of him boiled my blood. He made me so angry-

I cursed under my breath as I heard the guards yell out. I snapped my hand back and pressed my back up to the wall, not daring to look around at the guards.

"What the hell happened?"

"I _hate_ this place! It's falling apart!"

"Calm down! A bit of steam bother you?"

"Calcelmo doesn't pay us enough for this... three guards died from a 'bit of steam' last week!" The annoyed guard muttered. "Who would break into a museum?"

"I don't know, thieves? I bet there's a lot of valuable things in here..."

"Yeah, well don't you go getting any ideas." The Nord guard said, a stern tone in his voice. "I need some mead." He turned around and walked out of the room.

I sighed in relief, then moved in the shadows, while the guard was still examining the golden pipe which had, by now, stopped expelling steam. I moved behind his back and silently opened the golden door on the opposite side of the room. Peering around the door, and seeing it empty (from guards anyway), quietly moved inside, soundlessly closing the door behind me. I straightened up, beginning to walk, although I still cautiously stuck my head around the corner before stepping out. The heavy clunks of the guards footsteps told me I had been wrong in moving freely. I scrambled backwards, pressing myself against the wall once more, listening to their footsteps stop. They were now in the middle of the room.

"Fantastical." I mumbled. "I'm a thief breaking into a castle full of guards, and what do I get? More guards." I sighed. I examined this room: it was exceptionally bright for an underground chamber, but the light was only emanating from the torches in the middle of the large hall. I crept from my corner to a broken pillar, grabbing the corner and peeking at the guards, who all sat in the light, drinking. "Nords." I muttered - always drinking. I remained crouched and stretched out my senses again, feeling one of the glass bottles weigh heavily in one Nord's hands. I grinned to myself and narrowed my eyes for a moment, focusing on the bottle. The bottom rim of the glass exploding on impact with the ground, the mead spraying along the dust-ridden slabs. The now-empty-handed guard cursed loudly and crassly, as the other two guards laughed raucously. I began to move through the diversion, making my way through the chamber and down another passageway. I found another set of golden doors, which I opened as quietly as I could, slowly to avoid any creaking. I passed through the door, closing it as carefully as I could.

I ducked underneath a collapsed steam pipe, which was violently spitting steam, and moved through the collapsed passage, making my way up stairs and climbing over the rubble. Calcelmo was definitely the worst perfectionist I had ever encountered. He was also the most frustrating, and the most rude.

"What do you think this is?" I stalked through the chamber, making out two figures amongst the mist of fog.

"Another trap most likely. Those things are dangerous... three of the guards died when lower half flooded with steam last week." I immediately clasped a hand over my mouth and nose. The guards continued conversing in unintelligible clumsy accents before moving through the halls. I noticed them patrol down to where the fog was thickest, and made a logical choice to avoid them. I moved down the stairs and turned to my right, noticing the passageway filled with broken golden pipes, a thick emerald mist and corpses scattered across the flooded floor. I grabbed part of my oversized tunic underneath my leather armour and brought it up over my nose, allowing me to move my hands freely. I darted my eyes around the room, searching for a way through - I wasn't going to risk my life with a linen cloth.

A series of raised plates stood on each side of the flooded chamber. I stretched out my senses, trying not to breath in the foul smoke, and felt the plates loosely groan, vibrating through the water, sending ripples towards the corpses. I summoned my strength and pushed them down, sweat swiping down my face from my hairline as I strained my arms - it was like trying to push down buoyant rocks in neck-deep water.

I finally managed to push them down into the floor, and heard the hissing of the pipes stop, the gas slowly dissipating into the water, which became a thick, icidic blue. I tried to move forwards a few steps, keeping the stone plates down. I took a few more steps, then a few more, but in less than a minute, I had to stop to balance myself, keeping my arms outstretched and my hands strained, breathing raggedly as I took another step. I looked up, noticing I was nearly halfway across the room. I wouldn't be able to hold the plates down any longer...

I let go of them, and sprinted through the hallway, water splashing and gas hissing. I ducked under the sudden jets of the green mist, then slid underneath the final golden pipe, splashing through the water and skidding onto the stone floor once again. I pulled my wetted cloth off of my face, for fear of the poisonous water. I then straightened up, and began to climb through the rubble at the end of the tunnel, eventually coming out into a larger, grander room, with a large stone table, filled with golden valuables.

I dropped down silently onto the floor, dropping my hand onto the ground to steady myself. My hand pushed down, however, onto a large square plate, causing fire to shoot out of various corners of the room, one of which was directly opposite me. I raised my hands up to try and stop it in some way, but the figure in front of me bore the brunt, as she began screaming in agony, collapsing onto the floor and squirming and screeching in pain. The other guard in the room ran out in horror, leaving his friend to die. I crept towards the woman, examining the body. She was dead now. I guessed it was caused from the heart attack she would've had rather than the fire. I looked up at the steady jets of flames, and raised a hand, trying to suppress them. The fires managed to die out eventually, becoming nothing more than hisses of air. I looked up - rusted pylons had emerged from the floor, spearing through several Dwemer artifacts. I moved cautiously through the room, terrified of stepping on anymore plates.

As I approached the next door, I saw it. A fantastic masterpiece. A calling of larceny I had so rarely experienced in my life. I grinned to myself as I made my way towards it; a small bronze box stood beside two candles on a mantle. It had curious and intricate designs and carvings engraved onto each side. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands - it was more or less half the size of my hand. I began moving one of the many small circles around, which caused three others to turn around in unison. My grin widened. It was a puzzle box. Like the ones I used to have in home...

I imagined this to have been a toy of a Dwemer boy. He must have loved it, for it to have been in such good condition long after they had died out. I decided I would keep this, if nothing else from this museum. This was my fee for risking my life once more without knowing why.

I placed the puzzle box in my pouch and began to move through the door again, and saw a magnificent site. I was outside, in the bright sunrise, overlooking the entire city of Markarth. I straightened up, a ghost of a smile working its way across my mouth. I could see the mountains in the distance, as well as the rolling fields, with echoing trees swaying in the early morning breeze.

I sighed, realizing that I couldn't stay and admire the view for long. I turned to my right, and followed the only path, leading up the stone stairs and through another set of golden doors, once more delving into the mountainous keep.

The inside here was just as ruined as the rest of the museum, which didn't surprise me - why would it be? A large walkway was paved with a tattered rug, leading me down the centre of the room, and towards a flight of stairs, which I climbed. I came to a small platform that jutted out into a balcony overlooking the walkway. I looked at the archaic monument in front of me; it looked as old as the rest of Markarth, with cracks like rivers along the sides. It was some type of alter, or gravestone. I couldn't decide which, but an engraved face of a hideous goblin-like creature was set on the top of it. I spent a few moments looking up at it, still and slightly afraid it would come to life. A second later, I realized how idiotic I was being - they probably engraved that to scare off thieves. I chuckled to myself and knelt down, examining the stone; it was covered in a series of markings, all resembling the language in Garrus' journal.

With a smile, I removed my hood for a better view and began to look around for something to copy the writing onto. There were a series of stone tables behind me, all filled with Dwemer junk and cluttered with writings and scrolls - there must have been some spare. I looked around, finally finding a scroll that was plain and unused - on one side anyway. I grabbed a piece of charcoal as well, knocking over a strange golden box as I did so. I came back to the writings on the stone and placed the paper up over it, rubbing the charcoal all over the stone, grinning to myself as the writings appeared on the paper.

"Thank you Calcelmo." I muttered to myself, rolling up the paper carefully, to avoid smudges, and placing it in one of my pouches.

I shot my head up at the sudden noise of the door crashing open, and scrambled down behind the stone, tucking in my arms so to hide completely. I snuck my eye around the stone, and examined the four new-comers.

"Accidents like this don't just happen!" The first man, an Altmer clad in golden elvish armour, exclaimed angrily. "Someone is trying to sabotage my uncle's research." I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd be Calcelmo's nephew - he's just as arrogant. The second man, who walked besides the Altmer was an older man, probably a veteran, but also a Breton, which I noticed through his accent.

"I...oh, all right." He resigned with a sigh. "If there is a thief, he won't leave this tower alive. But shouldn't we inform Master Calcelmo?" The altmer turned around angrily, pointing an accusing finger at his soldier.

"I'll deal with my uncle." He hissed. "Just... go! Scour this place from top to bottom!" He commanded, with the other two men grudgingly obeying. I recognized his voice as he raised it - he was the soldier who sprinted out of the trap room, screaming as he left his friend to die. I shook my head - I really hated Markarth.

I pulled my hood back up and, remaining crouched, I sprinted along the side of the balcony, leaping across the stairs and grabbing onto a ledge jutting out from the wall. I pulled myself up onto it, trying not to make sounds as I peeled the grazed skin off of my hands. I moved along the ledge, still crouched to avoid making any noise. The ledge led me around the walkway and towards the door, where two of the guards stood, the other two searching for me. I dropped down and began to silently open the door...

A loud crash made everyone, including myself, look outside the door; a guard fell onto the floor, his armour crashing horribly against the stone and his yells loudly echoing across the chamber. I cursed as the men charged towards me.

The first man was heavy, throwing large swings around towards me. I ducked under the first one, then side-stepped the second, grabbing his wrist as he jabbed to impale me, and threw my fist into his unguarded face.

I moved back through the door as the other guard came towards me, swiping quickly at me. I jumped back and threw a hand out, a burst of fire shooting into him, burning his clothes and making him drop to the floor in a panic.

The first guard was back up, and roaring a barbaric battle cry as he raised his sword in the air heroically. I threw a hand out to punch him as he approached, but instead, he went flying back into the walkway. I spent no time pondering over my magic as I sprinted along the balcony, stopping besides the waterfall that collapsed behind the balcony. I saw the three men approach steadily and together as I raised my hands in fire. The water behind me began to sizzle the flames. I had to think quickly - I doubted I could fight them all. Not to mention the guards that stood in the rooms I came through. Also, I didn't think that Calcelmo's nephew would admit a surrender - not that I would ever surrender to a man like him anyway.

The Altmer approached me, twirling his sword as his hand brightly burned with ice. I took two steps back as he approached me, eyes fixated on his sword. This seemed like it... this seemed like how I would die.

He swung at my throat, causing me to lean back, and my waist felt the cold stone of the railing, and then all my weight shifted to my shoulders... and I was weightless. I fell down the waterfall, cursing loudly as I did so, trying not to hit any of the rocks, although my attempts were unneeded, as I didn't have to worry about the jagged cliff face, just the drop. I saw a large pool at the bottom, steam flowing around the sides of it from smelting ore and burning wood or coal. I slammed into the water, going several feet under before I resurfaced, feeling an aching pain all over my body from the impact. I gasped for air, pulling myself out of the water and onto a wooden platform full of miners and slowly straightened up, walking across the wooden supports amongst the flurried anxious faces. I waved a tired hand to some of them, then pulled my hood back up, making my way towards the gates before any of the guards tried to arrest me.

As I finally made my way out, I couldn't help but mutter to myself.

"I'm going to kill Karliah."

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was a drag to write at times, but I've enjoyed it... in a twisted way. I'll see you next chapter - it's not going to be as long as this though, it's more of a story progression chapter than anything else.**

**Remember to leave a review - I'm anxious to hear what you thought about this chapter... if you want more of this sneaking, if you want more fighting, if you like it more realistic with Tenebraeus being pretty... well, clumsy. Also, tell me what you want - more into Tenebraeus' background, or more into what kind of character he's becoming...?**

**Remeber, brownie points for whoever got the reference at the start of the chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**So, as promised, it's just a smaller chapter for the sake of story progression... hope you guys enjoy it, especially those of you who haven't done the Thieves Guild questline yet... you really should do it - I've always loved the faction questlines...**

_**Reviews...**_

_**SirAC - **__I know you have, and I'm very sorry... please accept this one as compensation! Thank you very much - you always leave reviews, and that's what really motivates me to continue this story. Ahh those 'MMS' as I like to call them... well, Tenebraeus has just been betrayed by the man who taught him to partially control his magic... it's all part of Tenebraeus growing into the thief he will become... and I think you would make a marvelous thief!_

_**Guest**__ - Thank you! And you are beautiful too! _

_**Duesal10 - **__Well well well, my first serial reviewer! Thank you for leaving these reviews, it's really good to see that you're someone who will give me a lot of feedback!_

_1. Thank you - it was a nightmare to wait and write what is essentially a prologue, but I think I made the right decision._

_2. I thought it was a nice little touch - makes the story seem more real, since it's involving other characters... I hope everyone felt a little bit of an Easter Egg feeling at his name._

_3. Oh, honour is all good and well... it's just that you can't eat it or sleep in it at night..._

_4. Of course he's whiney! He's twelve years old at that point and orphaned... From struggle comes strength, as Morgan Freeman taught me..._

_5. Thank you! I did try to make it as dramatic as I could - a little hint towards a certain traitorous thief..._

_6. He's his brother - that's a bond that never breaks..._

_7. I wouldn't exactly call it a jump - more of a fall... with style maybe._

_**I'm pleased to announce that there is a new Story Follower, Duesal10, who has left an astonishing 7 reviews! I think that puts him ahead of everyone else! Anyway, onwards with the story!**_

Chapter Thirteen

I walked down the stairs of the tavern, opening the door and finding myself in the cellar, surrounded by large barrels and an aroma of mead. I approached the main source of light in the dim cellar, where Enthir and Karliah sat, tankards set beside a barrel.

"Back eh? And how was our friend Calcelmo?" Enthir asked with a grin. I shook my head, closed my eyes and sighed. I didn't even want to talk about it...

"This should help you translate the journal." I said, handing the journal to him, as well the scroll. He took both, and set them down in front of him, while sitting down opposite them, grabbing a tankard and pouring some mead out of the barrel for myself.

"They're a bit wet..." Enthir said, a frown evident in his voice.

"If you say _anything_, I swear..." Enthir glanced up from the scroll for a moment, examining my distraught and angry expression.

"...I suppose it would be inappropriate to ask how you obtained this, so I simply won't." He said, allowing me to drain the contents of my tankard peacefully. He unravelled the scroll and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A rubbing eh? Odd. I expected notes..." I dropped the tankard down on the table loudly, making him look at me once more. "I trust it was an interesting adventure?"

"Oh, it was quite the tale." I said sarcastically, pouring myself some more mead. Enthir set the scroll out on the table, placing an inkwell and a tankard to weight it down. He then started flicking through the book while I continued drinking.

"Is it wise to drink so much?" I looked to Karliah, who steadily sipped her drink.

"I nearly died. Mead has never tasted better and it's free." I said, taking another mouthful.

"You want your wits about you." She stated. "Too much mead makes you vulnerable. Makes you clumsy."

"I'm never clumsy." I said, leaning back in my chair, placing my tankard on the table.

"Really?" She asked with a smirk. I paused, remembering the event of what had just transpired in Markarth.

"Everyone makes mistakes." I said.

"Especially when they're emotional." She informed me.

"Emotional? Me? I'm not the girl here..." I continued to drink.

"Typical man..." Karliah rolled her eyes. "Don't let hate cloud your mind."

"It's not clouding my mind." I snapped, looking into her eyes angrily. "It's motivating me."

"That sounds a lot like Mercer to me." We stared into each other eyes, her cold dark orbs reflecting my own. I gripped my tankard as her hand curled into a fist.

Enthir slowly coughed, trying to gain our attention.

"Back to the matter at hand?" I pulled my tankard back at drank from it again. Karliah turned her face back to Enthir, but I kept my eyes set on her. "What I've read... it's intriguing, but highly disturbing."

"What is?" Karliah asked. Enthir glanced back to the scroll to double-check his translation.

"It appears that Gallus had suspicions about Mercer Frey's allegiance to the Guild for months. He had begun to uncover what he called an... 'unduly lavish lifestyle replete with spending vast amounts of gold on personal pleasures.'"

"Figured as much..." I muttered.

"Does the journal say where this wealth came from?" Karliah asked, ignoring my comment.

"Yes." Enthir flicked the page over, spent a moment referring to the scroll, then to the book. "Gallus seemed certain that Mercer had been removing funds from the Guild's treasury without anyone's knowledge." Karliah lightly touched the bridge of her nose in heavy thought. She began to pace, then turned back to Enthir.

"Anything else Enthir? Anything about..." She glanced at my cautiously, then resumed speaking. "Anything about the Nightingales?"

"Nightingales?" I asked, curious. What did a 'splinter group' as Karliah called them have to do with Mercer stealing funds?

"Yes... he did somewhere..." Enthir flicked back a few pages. "Ah, yes, it here is. The last few pages seem to describe 'the failure of the Nightingales' although it doesn't seem to go into great detail." Enthir furrowed his brow, annoyed and confused. "Gallus also repeatedly mentions his strong belief that Mercer desecrated something known as the Twilight Sepulcher." Karliah gasped, making me and Enthir look towards her. She placed a hand on her forehead in despair.

"Shadows preserve us..." She muttered, closing her eyes. "So it's true..." Me and Enthir looked at each other, intrigued. Enthir adjusted himself in the seat, then rested his hands on the table. "I-I'm not familiar with the... Twilight Sepulcher?" He glanced back at the book, then to the scroll, then to the book. "What is it? What has Mercer Frey done?" Karliah composed herself and then placed a hand on one of Enthir's.

"I'm sorry Enthir, I can't say. All that matters is that we deliver your translation to the Guild immediately." Enthir nodded, understanding, and placed his other hand on top of hers.

"I'll start writing out a translation now." He said, then left the room with the journal and the scroll.

I looked at Karliah for a moment, as she leaned over the table, one hand cradling her temple. She seemed so anguished at Gallus' journal. I contemplated placing a hand on top of hers, as she had done to Enthir, but decided that we weren't close enough for me to do so. I looked around to check Enthir had gone, then clasped my tankard with both hands.

"So..." I said, making her look up at me. "Gallus' journal mentioned the 'Twilight Sepulcher'?" She sighed, pondering on something for a moment."

"You've come this far..." She murmured. "So... I guess can see no harm in concealing it any longer." I leant forwards, focused on listening to her. "The Twilight Sepulcher is the temple to Nocturnal. It's what the Nightingales are sworn to protect with their lives." I tightened my brow.

"Your lives?" I asked, perplexed. "That's a bit drastic."

"It is necessary."

"Why? Why would it require that kind of protection?"

"Everything that represents Nocturnal's influence is contained within the walls of the sepulcher." She stated. "Now it seems that Mercer's broken his oath with Nocturnal and defiled the very thing swore to protect." I mulled it over in my head ... honestly, it was hard to believe. The Twilight Sepulcher was a _temple_? A _temple_? I let out a long breath and rubbed my chin.

"Thieves and temples." I said cynically. "It just... it just doesn't add up." Karliah let out a gentle, musical chuckle.

"I felt the same way when Gallus first revealed these things to me." She said, a small smile pulling up on the corners of her lips as she began to reminisce. "I think, given time, you'll understand what I mean."

"I'd understand a lot better if there was less mystery involved." I informed her. She smiled again at me.

"As a Nightingale, I've been sworn to secrecy regarding the Sepulcher." I rolled my eyes, and pulled back my tankard, drinking the last of it. "Look, I know that the Guild doesn't do much to foster faith, but I'm going to have to ask that you continue to trust me."

"I don't even know if I trust you now." I interjected.

"You're right not to." She nodded. "But I need you to do so. Please." Her eyes were no longer cold or dark, but now bright in the candle light and pouring open, revealing her bare soul to me. "I've spent twenty-five years in exile. Twenty-five years running. I've been waiting for this moment for twenty-five years..." I continued looking into her eyes, trying to empathise with her pain. It reminded me of my own pain - the pain of being orphaned, being abandoned. The pain of losing someone so close to you to someone else. My father had been trying to help the Stormcloaks, and they killed him...

My thoughts were interrupted as Enthir entered the room again, holding a satchel, which I presumed contained the journal and his translation. I stood up with Karliah as Enthir handed the bad to me with a nod, then turned to Karliah.

"Enthir..." She said, a sad, white smile etching across her face. "Words can't express..."

"You don't need to say anything Karliah." He said, cupping one of her hands and returning the smile.

"Farewell old friend." She said, and then turned to leave the cellar.

I moved to follow her, but Enthir grabbed my arm. I turned around to face him completely, and as the door sounded shut, he began to speak to me.

"Listen, all I want is the truth to be revealed to the Guild; they respected Karliah, and she deserves better." He said lowly, but sternly. I could tell how strong their friendship was from his tone. "Do whatever you can for her and I'll consider it a personal favour." I nodded. "Here." He said, reaching into his own satchel and removing a pair of large books, both with strange markings carved into their tattered and worn fronts. "Karliah told me about your magic... she said you've been struggling with them." How did she know that? "Anyway... well, these were what I read when I first started at the college and... they got me here alive." I began turning the books over in my hands, opening the first one and reading along some of the lines.

"Destruction magic?" I asked inquisitively.

"Maybe you'll be able to make some bigger flames from now on eh?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Karliah." He said simply. "Listen... when this is all over, you should come to the college."

"What college?"

"The college - here in Winterhold. It's a Mage's college. They can teach you to control your magic there." How had I never heard of this? A mages college? "I must warn you though , they don't appreciate thieves much." I smiled, happy, for the first time in months.

"Thank you Enthir." He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Just take care of her. Now go... I plan to keep this barrel to myself." He grinned, sitting down and drinking from his tankard as I placed the new (or rather, old) books in the satchel.

I walked up the stairs into the tavern and then out into the snowing winter, pulling up my hood with Karliah.

"What now?" I asked. She looked at me, then up to the night sky.

"We must hasten to Riften before Mercer can do any more damage to the Guild." I nodded. I noticed her chilled breaths, spotting her nerves.

"Are you okay?" She turned back to me.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you said it yourself, you've been in exile for twenty-five years, and now you're coming home. You must be a little bit nervous." She nodded.

"Whatever happens happens." She said, confident. "If things... go badly, at least I tried. I cannot regret that." She sighed again. "Although I could regret getting you killed too. This is not your fight."

"It is. Mercer used me, he left me for dead. It's as much my fight as it is yours."

"If they kill me," She said, ignoring me again, "I want you to run." I shook my head, one hundred percent opposed to the idea.

"I do not run." I stated. She sighed.

"Then you are a fool." She paused, and then I made out the small change in her lips under the moonlight. "But thank you." She began to untie her belt. "I want you to have this." She handed me the belt with a shorter sword sheathed in a black leather scabbard. I began to examine the hilt - it was a strong, wooden hilt, wrapped in black leather and small metal rings. The pommel was like a bird's talon, with three claws gently protruding outwards like the petals of a flower, and at the beginning of the blade, I saw the same insignia from Gallus' journal: a nightbird was cradling a moon with its wings. I held the sheathed blade and began turning it in the moonlight, examining the emblem. "It belonged to Gallus." Karliah informed me. I looked at her in shock, and opened my mouth to tell her I wouldn't accept this - I couldn't. It wasn't my place to, but she held a hand out, silencing me. "Given the circumstances, I know he would approve." I let the breath out of my raised chest, and nodded, lowering the scabbard.

"I'll put it to good use." I promised her.

"If the Guild isn't willing to listen to reason, you might have to." She said with an unfortunate tone. She then looked up to the sky. "It's a beautiful night." She stated. I looked up at the stars with her.

"It is." I agreed. "It really is."

**So, what did you guys think? I figured that even though Tenebraeus is a mage, I couldn't leave the Nightingale blade out of this! That'd be insane! So, say what you thought - I know I said 'smiles' a lot, but 'grins' and 'smirks' didn't really give the right feel... sorry for any typos - I realise I've been making them a lot, but it's 1:20 now (UK time) and I am pretty out of it... the chapter's longer than I thought it would be - nice little surprise huh?**


	14. Chapter 14

**The elusive and enigmatic Stormcloak will be making her way into this story in one of the next couple of chapters - I'll try to get them done as soon as. In the meantime, enjoy this one. Also, check out **_**Anna Stormcloak **_**by **_**Jen12040**_** if you haven't already; it's a fantastic story with a really good feel to it.**

**I would also like to inform you that this is the last chapter that features Tenebraeus as a 17-year-old. There's going to be a few character development moments in the next one or two chapters, and I think you are going to like them...**

_**Reviews...**_

_**Duesal10 - **__I know! He's finally growing up... Don't get too set on him becoming a fully fledged Nightingale yet... rest assured, complications will arise... or will they? Like I stated, said Stormcloak girl will be coming into the story very soon._

_**SirAC - **__Haha, I was really tired... I won't do that on this chapter though - I have a feeling I'll just wince everytime I write it..._

_There's no competition, both of you give really good feedback! _

_**Panthar Hardraad - **__Not yet at least, but eventually my friend... eventually... we may have to wait and see ;) I've planned out a lot of the story already_

**Shoutout to the latest favourite/followers:**

_** .167**_

_**Rollinator**_

_**notelppa**_

_**josh2jer**_

_**tobi-mentally insane**_

**Thanks for following, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 14

We stood in the large sewer chamber that contained the Ragged Flaggon, where the only occupants were the usual rats scurrying along near the water. The pub was more or less the same, with the dim lights burning away slowly in the corners, but the main difference of the bar was the lack of the usual drunkards. Where were they? The thought of Mercer floated into my mind. Had he killed them all? No... surely he couldn't have; he's a great thief, and probably a good fighter, but there's limits to everyone - even him. Then again... if they had all been drunk, could they have been more vulnerable to him? Had some of the thieves turned along with Mercer, killing the others who would have opposed his betrayal of Gallus and Karliah?

"Calm down." Karliah spoke softly, seeing my thoughts from my un-hooded face. "There's no bodies." She informed me. No... there wasn't. There wasn't any blood either. I breathed easy, but still felt worry at Brynjolf. I hoped he was okay, him above everyone else. "Well... I suppose this is convenient." Karliah said positively. I turned towards her, unsure of what she meant. "Well, if there were people here, they might had suspected who I was." I faced away from her, not as positive as she was; I wanted to find Brynjolf and make sure he was alright.

I moved forwards through the empty bar, looking over the untouched chairs and tankards. This was too strange. Walking down the familiar tunnel, we came to the storage cabinet. I cursed lowly.

"I don't have a key." I murmured, but Karliah simply reached into her pocket, unlocked the cabinet, and then hit a strong hand into the back, forcing the wood to creak, dust sweeping out from it's opening. "How do you have a key?"

"What, you think Mercer was smart enough to put that in himself?" She scoffed. "It was Gallus' idea." I walked through the cabinet behind her, and we dawdled along the tunnel; I think she was as afraid as I was of what lay on the other side.

"What was he like?" I asked. "Gallus, I mean." She smiled at the thought of him.

"He was fantastic." She said quietly. "He built this guild up from scratch, recruited Mercer first, then Brynjolf, then me."

"So, Mercer was his... protege?" She scoffed again.

"Mercer never relished the role of being the student. He had an inability to learn."

"So, you were his student then?"

"We were all his students." She sighed. "His protege though? No, I was never his protege..." We reached the final door leading to the cistern. "Make your piece with your Gods Tenebraeus Magnus." She instructed to me. I shook my head.

"I don't believe in children's tales anymore."

"You don't believe in the Gods?" She asked, quite surprised.

"I've never seen one." I stated. Karliah chuckled.

"A pupil of Brynjolf and you don't believe in the Gods."

"How do you know I'm a..." She smiled once more. "Right - you just know..." I rolled my eyes, then opened the door to return home.

The cistern was just as I remembered it: dim, grimy, with the four stone bridges meeting at an intersection over the clear pond below. The small, dingy beds lined up against the circular wall. I took a few steps forwards, and saw a series of thieves all stood around Mercer's desk. I looked towards Karliah, grasping the hilt of my sword. She nodded and moved her right hand around to the back of her waist, where the hilt of what must have been a dagger (or very short knife) was barely visable.

One of the hoods looked up at us, and within the next few moments, we were being faced with three thieves - the central one being Vex, who bared her teeth and unsheathed her small knife at the sight of Karliah.

"You better have a damn good reason for standing there traitor." She growled. Karliah remained the statute - her left leg positioned forwards with her right hand creeping around behind her back.

"Please, lower your weapons so we may speak." Karliah spoke, softly but firmly, as if this was their only warning.

"We don't talk with murderers." The hooded thief beside her spat.

"I am no murderer." She stated.

"Of course not." Said the third thief, an arrow notched in his bow. I took a step in front of Karliah, letting go of the hilt of my sword.

"Vex, it's me." I said gently. "Tenebraeus." She looked at me coldly for a while, her eyes glazing over me unfamiliarly.

"You're dead." She said. "She killed you! Mercer told us so!" She turned her fiery orbs back to Karliah.

"I'm alive." I assured her. "Listen, you've all been deceived by a lie." I said to Vex, looking at the other two thieves as well. "Mercer has betrayed us all."

"What?"

"How?"

"What do you mean?" Vex furrowed her brow in complete confusion.

"Mercer was the one who killed Gallus." I told her, her eyes revealing her slow shock. "Gallus found out he was stealing from the Guild, so Mercer killed him. He blamed it on Karliah and assumed control of the Guild."

"But... she tried to kill-" Vex shook her head.

"It was Mercer." I said calmly, stepping towards her. "He stabbed me in Snow Veil Sanctum. Karliah saved me." Vex looked from myself to Karliah. I was about three foot from Vex. "Just let us explain."

"I don't think so." I looked towards the thief with a bow, who's mouth turned into a tight line, drawing the arrow back further and aiming to loose it...

"What in the name of Ysmir do you think you're doing?" The arrow was snatched from the bow, and the archer was thrown up against the wall. "You know who he is! Were you really going to shoot him?" The thief was now silent and quivering at the anger of his superior. "We do not kill our own." He instructed with an excessive amount of enunciation. The archer thief nodded, as the arrow was snapped in two and tossed to the floor. I beamed at the sight of our peacemaker, with his auburn hair knotted down his pale yet warm cheeks, his eyes dancing like fire, seemingly lighting up the entire cistern, and his voice oozed warm honey to my ears. "I knew you were alive lad."

I gripped him tightly as I hugged Brynjolf - I missed him so much. I closed my eyes in relief. He was unharmed. I was a child again - desperately wanting to be hugged by my father. Now it seemed that I had that. Brynjolf hugged me back, whispering a thank-you to the nine and Talos and Ysmir. He looked up from me to Karliah.

"She saved your life?" He asked lowly. I nodded my head. He sighed let out his warm grin. He didn't need to say thank-you - she understood. She had looked after me for Brynjolf, just like I was looking after her now for Enthir.

"I have proof that you have all been misled." Karliah said finally, and all thieves looked to Brynjolf, myself included. He contemplated listening for a moment - she had bought me back alive and safe; that was probably the only reason why he would let her explain. He finally let go of me, allowing my to stand between the two of them.

"No tricks Karliah." He said finally. "Or I'll cut you down where you stand."

All the thieves became more easy, sheathing their blades and gently relaxing their bows, but they all still kept an arrow notched and a hand on their hilts. Karliah and I moved through the cistern and into the centre of the room, where the intersection of the stone bridges met under the bright moonlight. Brynjolf stood ahead of us, at the head of the bridge. I remained behind Karliah, in the darkness as she stood in the harsh whiteness.

"Now, where's this so-called proof you speak of?" Brynjolf asked like a judge. Karliah was on trial, and the Guild were her peers. I felt strange standing beside her - was I too to be judged as a traitor? I was in a state of flux between the thieves and Karliah - dubbed as a betrayer. Karliah straightened up against the low hisses and spits and placed her hands behind her back, almost as if they were chained together... as if this really was a trial.

"I have Gallus' journal." She announced, evoking silence throughout the cistern, save the constant drippings into the pool beneath us, and the occasional scurry of a rat. "I think you'll find it's contents disturbing." I produced the journal and the translation, walking down the stone bridge and handing it to Brynjolf, who, hesitantly, took the journal, turning it over in his hands. He opened it up, examining the paper translation inside. He read it over once, then handed it over to Delvin, a gruff and blunt man, who read took the paper and set it down on Mercer's desk.

Mere moments passed, although with the tension of the thieves, it felt like eras. Every moment was so full - every stench heightened to become so foul as it violated my nose, every drop into the pool loudly intruding into my ear like I was standing next to a waterfall.

"Brynjolf." Delvin said, calling him over and conversing with him quietly.

"Let me see..." Bryjolf moved the translation along the desk, examining it thoroughly. "No..." He finally said, taking an astounded step back from the desk, all attention of the Guild on him. "It... it can't be." He shook his head, which he grabbed with both hands. "This can't be true!" He closed his eyes and held his forehead lightly with his fingers. "I've known Mercer too long..."

"It's true, Brynjolf." Karliah said solemnly. Brynjolf looked up to her, his once warm and shimmering eyes now shattered, glimmering from the water tearing up inside the pained orbs. "Every word." Karliah took a deep breath to avoid her voice trembling any more than it already was - I couldn't have imagined how it felt. Nobody could have anticipated the emotion that would overwhelm her when she finally came back her, having to tell everyone about the crimes of her once-best friend. "Mercer's been stealing from the Guild for years!" She announced to the cistern, sparking murmurs and a few growls. "Right under your noses!" The growls followed by the tensing of bows as I saw an arrow fling towards Karliah. I brought my arm in front of it, sending it spiralling off into the wall of the cistern. The thief was then restrained by others, but the crowds grew angry, the action of one thief invoking chaos and panic amongst the rest. I raised my right hand up beside my face, a ball of blinding fire flitting around my palm, my fingers enclosed around it like a cage while my other hand held my sword backwards, with the pommel snugly tucked beside my thumb.

Every thief dropped their sword or arrow at the quaking voice of Brynjolf, who's once honey-trickling tones had now turned into a fiery chasm of rage and anguish. He looked out amongst the crowds, walking slowly towards Karliah and I.

"You call yourselves members of the Guild?" He asked, anger seething out from his restrained voice. I knew he wasn't talking about myself of Karliah. "We have someone brave enough to risk her own life to help _us_ and you all thank her valiance by attempted murder?" He shouted the last few words across the chamber, his voice rumbling throughout the entirety of the Ratway.

"She would dishonour us!" Said a faceless voice from the darkened crowd.

"You would dishonour yourself!" Brynjolf shouted back at the source of the voice. "Loosing an arrow at someone for making noises that do not please your ears?" He shook his head again, disgusted by the thief. He glanced around, trying to decide what to do. "There is one way to find out if what the lass says is true." He stated, turning back to the desk. "Delvin, I'll need you to open the vault."

"Wait just a blessed moment Bryn," Delvin trailed after Brynjolf, who lead us both through the following crowd towards the pair of heavy and thick steel doors, "I read that book too, but it didn't actually say-"

"It said Mercer's been stealing from our vaults for years. Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered." Brynjolf said quietly, his voice cutting through Delvin's cautious tones like paper.

"Yes, yes I know, but how could Mercer have opened up a vault that needs to keys? It's impossible. Could he pick his way in?" He looked past Brynjolf, towards the other thief that stood beside the door.

"That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. There's no way it could be picked open." Vex stated, still dazed faintly from the revelations that had just taken place.

"He didn't need to pick the lock." Karliah explained quietly, more to Brynjolf than anyone else - this all must have made perfect sense to her.

"What's she on about?" Delvin asked in his crass voice.

"Use your key on the vault Delvin." Brynjolf commanded. "We'll open it up and find out the truth."

Delvin stood staring at Brynjolf for a few seconds, until he finally grumbled and stomped his way towards the steel doors to the vault, mumbling to himself as he did so. He took out the key and jammed it into the door with loud clunks, turning it around twice, then counterclockwise once.

"There, I've used my key and the vault's still locked up tighter than a drum between a priest's legs." He grouchily made his way back to us. "Now yours." He said to the taller thief, who marched towards the doors, sliding his own key into the door and repeating Delvin's actions.

We all held our breath, my hand stood ready on my sword, ready to cut down anyone who attacked myself or Karliah, should the vault be full. It couldn't be... I was sure of it - I was positive. It was only logical...

But I didn't feel like I was right.

"By the Nine!" I snapped my head up towards the vault, both doors open and Brynjolf standing inside. "It's gone!" He shouted back to us. "Everything's gone! Get in here, all of you!" We all dashed inside, a few thieves having to stand in the doorway to see the vaults now.

The chests were turned upside down, the baskets and barrels strewn across the floor, with not even a single coin left. He had taken everything. I picked up one of the baskets, checking to see if he had left anything - nothing. I dropped the basket and looked over to Brynjolf. He shook his head, eyes closed and lips trembling. I couldn't tell if he was angry or sad, but I felt anger. I hated Mercer. I hated him for using me, I hated him for killing Gallus, I hated him for betraying Karliah, I hated him for stabbing me, but most of all, I detested him for betraying Brynjolf - the best being alive. I clenched my fists, and felt my hands begin to burn brightly. I felt them being to crackle at the thought of Mercer, spending all the money we had ever spent - the coins we would never recover. I clenched my jaw as I felt my palms beginning to sweat. The corners of my view began to blur and merge into the surroundings, a yellow haze encroaching. He must be so smug now, thinking he had gotten away with it...

I felt a hand rest heavily upon my shoulder, and looked up to see Delvin standing there.

"Hold your thoughts 'til after we untangle this mess." He muttered into my ear. Right... I needed to stay calm - control my emotions, and my magic. I took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes and focusing and nothing but the blackness... my hands relaxed and I opened my eyes, everything returning to their normal colours again. I nodded my thanks to Delvin, and tried not to think about... _him_.

It seemed no one had noticed my almost-outburst, and were still infuriated with the robbery.

"The gold... the jewels... it's all gone!"

"He's taken it all!"

"He betrayed us!"

"She was right..."

"He stole it all!"

"He _did_ kill Gallus!"

"If I ever see him again..."

"That son of a bitch." Growled Vex. "I'm going to kill him!"

"Vex." Brynjolf spoke, now calm and firm, composed again. "Put it away - right now." Vex complied and leant against the wall, trying to exhale her rage. "We can't afford to lose our heads." He informed the rest of us. "We need to calm down and focus." Vex looked down at the floor, glaring in defiance.

"Do what he says Vex." Said Delvin softly (or as softly as he could speak with his accent). "This isn't helping right now." Vex turned around and thundered out of the vault and into the cistern, leaving only myself, Brynjolf, Devlin, Karliah and a handful of the other thieves. I made to follow her, but Brynjolf stopped me.

"Let her be lad. She needs to be alone." He looked back to Delvin. "Delvin, take some of the others and watch the Flagon. If you see Mercer, come tell me right away." He then turned back to me. "I'm going to need to sort this out. I'll talk to you later." He then walked away with Karliah, Delvin walking away with the thieves, leaving me standing on my own once more.

I looked around the room silently, trying to control my fury at the thought of Mercer taking everything. I couldn't be in here anymore... I felt like Mercer's dirt would catch onto me at any moment. I walked out of the room and stood for a moment, trying to focus. I needed to distract myself...

I followed the thieves out into the Flagon, took a large reserve of Mead from behind the bar and continued to drink myself to an early sleep in my bed back in the cistern, the thoughts of Mercer clouding my mind, only to be later replaced with thoughts and dreams of my inevitable revenge.

**Pretty dark right? I found a lot of faults with this part of the game, and thought that the return of someone like Karliah would be a lot more intense than just a simple "no tricks Karliah." I mean... really? Anyway, I hope I made it more dramatic and tense, since I've written several pages already. You know what? I'm actually quite pleased with that - about five minutes of gameplay turned into seven pages...**

**Anyway, if you've endured this chapter to here, you've reached the first ever instance of...**

**APPLICATION TIME**

**Hello, hello there, and welcome to ****APPLICATION TIME****!**

**So, what with my story writing, and making you wait for the young Ms. Stormcloak, I've decided to put in another OC into this story - and that OC can be created by **_**you**_**.**

**Just PM me, or leave a review, giving me the age, name, looks, clothes, weapons, magic, background, personality yadayadayada and I will choose at least a few lucky people who will have their characters incorporated into the story. Whether they're a thief, or a bar patron, or even a sailor or blacksmith or whatever, they will make it into the story... somehow. It might just be in one scene, and it might even turn out that they're a main character - you never know. Anyway, I look forward to reading your applications - I want you guys to be invested in this story as much as possible! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I just want to say sorry - I added in an Author's note to this chapter, so there's a lot of stuff I've written to you guys... so... apologies. Take this chapter as a gift!**

**Sorry for the long wait - I've started college and have got some work set to do... I promised to try to update when I can though! It's good motivation when I get all these fantastic reviews and followers!**

**First off I just wanted to say thank you for all your entries - I've enjoyed reading them, even if something like four of the entries were all Dark Brotherhood assassins... you guys aren't making it easy to have Tenebraeus meet super secret assassins from a super secret organization - thank you, I really do love a challenge.**

**Depending on whether or not I get a reply from Jen12040, this story can go one of two ways... they aren't that much different from each other though - so if the whole "Imperial boy/Nordic girl" idea attracted you to this story - it's still going in that direction, don't worry, I wouldn't dangle that in front of you beautiful people it just wouldn't be the daughter of Ulfric Stormcloak... well, it's not impossible, now I think about it...**

**APPLICATION TIME**

** Author: .167.**

** OC: Khadba Buzga**

**New followers! Shout-outs to:**

_**ClassyCynic**_

_**Ishkahrhil**_

_**Moth Mouth**_

_**CatDragon513**_

_**Quill and Brush**_

_**Reviews...**_

_**Duesal10 - **__Thank you! And not much longer - I don't really want to give away specifics and give a specific moment - I think it would ruin the moment... also, if I want to change the meeting slightly, I still have the freedom to play around with it. Also, I am still awaiting an e-mail from __**Jen12040 **__for her final say on how the chapter would play out - I'm very reluctant to do anything without her consent._

_**Quill and Brush - **__Aww, shucks I'm blushing... and I'm glad you like it. Thank you very much for your application - I like the whole 'automated-orphan' thing... it's quite a quirk. If you could PM me a bit more information about your character? I.e. Why did he kill his parents? How is he childlike etc... I already have the perfect scenario though!_

_**xXicecreamIVIlad - **__Haha thank you - I wanted to say 'nun' but... alas - lore-friendly problems etc... and I'd like to thank you for your OC - I know where I'm going to have Hunter Nelsen come into the story, but it's a little way down the line... I won't forget about him though - he WILL be in this story... as for a follower... we shall see._

_**SirAC - **__I know - so much in one chapter - I thought it might become a little cluttered... from your comment 'Eight', I can assume that you are not a Nord? Or at least, not one by the late Ulfric Stormcloak's standards? ... oops, plot leak. I really do encourage you to enter your character, although - remember, you can submit more than one character. And please, send me the character profile - I'll try my best to intergrate them. And as to regard the 'actual review', I graciously thank you for picking up on that - lots of brownie points for you my friend!_

Chapter Fifteen

One Year Later

I slammed my fist into the man's face again, my knuckles stinging from the many toothmarks now bleeding with crimson blood - although I wasn't sure if it was mine or his. The man began to plea, begging me to stop. I couldn't - my rage willed me to hit him again and again and again. My fingers held the fire in place, the blistering heat seething past them like the bars of a cage.

Linwe, an Altmer who lead our rival guild, the Somerset Shadows, had taken up residence in Uttering Hills Cave. It had been four months since Delvin informed me about Linwe, and sent me off on the chase for the slippery elf. Finally, I had tracked him down, and although it was not his face I pictured as I collided another fist into his nose, cracking it gruesomely, I still felt better. Delvin had stated that Linwe and his thieves killed their marks, looting the bodies afterwards and claiming they were thieves - like a wolf calling itself a fox. My investigations into the nearby city of Windhelm had proved otherwise - true, a girl had been killed, and while the Imperials did nothing, I had discovered several letters between Linwe and a woman in Windhelm whom I assumed to be his fence, Niranye. She led me to this cave, where I was now thoroughly beating Linwe to a bloody and well-deserved death.

"Enough!" I felt the back of my neck being tugged out, and then a hand reached around under my arms, throwing me back across the room. I focused back on Linwe and hoisted myself to my feet, storming towards the Altmer. The Orc stood in my way, blocking my passage with his giant shadow.

"Get out of my way." I growled.

"Enough!" He repeated, barking loudly and savagely. I paced back towards the entrance, wiping the blood from my mouth. The sight of it on my fingers made me feel angry again... I was weakened - bettered by him. I turned around and sprinted towards Linwe, who attempted to scramble away. I grabbed him by the throat and threw another fiery fist at him, this time, leaving scorched marks across his cheek. I yelled out in anger as I punched him, getting louder each time. I was eventually thrown back across the room again.

"Khadba..." I said lowly.

"We don't." The orc spat in his primitive tone.

"So what? Killing all those thieves out there, what was that? We didn't just put them to sleep you know! We were sent here to kill him!"

"Not like this." He quietly said, shaking his head at the bloody mess of the Altmer on the floor. "Brynjolf." He rumbled softly. I rolled my eyes.

"You think I care if you tell Brynjolf?"

"Yes." I scoffed, and pulled up a fistful of flames, advancing on Linwe, who attempted to drag his body away with his unbroken arm. Khadba moved to grab my shoulder, but I raised my fiery hand at him.

"Don't interfere." I ordered him. I could see the hate of what I was doing boiling in his eyes - I didn't expect him to understand. I didn't even want him to understand, because I didn't care what he thought. I was shuddering from the anger - it was like a fire in my lungs, causing me to take more and more breaths to stay alive - the only way to quench this fire in my chest was to kill, to seek revenge. Even if it wasn't on Mercer.

I stood above Linwe, and held both my hands out, flames evident in each one. I then threw my fire at Linwe in steady jets of infernos. I could hear his screaming ringing across the icidic caverns, vibrating the icicles and reverberating through the maze-like passages. He writhed around on the floor, desperately slapping his body in a feeble attempt to put out my fire. Foolish. It wasn't like normal fire, it couldn't be so easily put out by rolling around - it was like dragon fire. It would gnaw through your skin and blacken your muscle. I kept the streams of fire burning across Linwe for longer, feeling good. So much better. I felt in control, like I was serving justice, but most of all, I felt powerful. I felt like a God, watching this mortal begin to melt into the floor.

Looking back on it now, I wish I could forget the smell.

**Like I said, a relatively short chapter - only something like two pages. **

**Also, a few other updates that I want your feedback on something: In this story, I may refer to certain mods for Skyrim - not massive ones, but smaller ones. Look up Dragon Cliff Manor, and you'll get a sneak peak at where one of the chapters will be set. You can find it on YouTube, and it is pretty fantastic.**

**A word of warning for ****APPLICATION TIME**** - I get this urge to groan when someone submits an overpowered character - someone who can wield magic, is a marksman with a bow and carries axes and swords and daggers etc - I mean, it subtracts the realism from my story that I am trying really hard to instill... I'm not saying don't make your character talented, but if you've been keeping up with this story (I know you have - and love you guys for it), you'll have noticed that most of it **_**doesn't**_** revolve around fighting.**

**So, making a character that lacks depth and personality, but is more like a deity that happens to be carrying a bow... well, it feels a little like I've spent ages making a sandcastle and someone's stamping all over it... only that's a bit more violent and deliberate... So, I'm going to try to tone some characters down - not too much hopefully, but for instance, if there's a character who can use magic perfectly, it would kind of negate the effects of Tenebraeus - so, I'll probably remove the magic - unless of course, if it is absolutely essential to the character. Also, one Dark Brotherhood character each please - come on, make an absolutely unique character! And that doesn't necessarily mean Argonian/Khajit btw - I've had two humans submitted overall...**

**The point I'm making is don't make your characters too bad-ass; I've made that mistake many times, and am speaking from experience. With that in mind, I'll love you and leave you, but know that this is the first thing I did when I woke up... at 3 in the morning... So, I think there's no typos, but if there are I'm sorry - you can never catch them all...**


End file.
